Jessica Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
by wildwriter97
Summary: Sequel to Jessica Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Harry has a twin sister who he only found out about last year. How will their second year at Hogwarts play out?
1. The Worst Birthday Present

**Hey people! So sorry about the huge gap between the last book and this one but I've had a huge writer's block and been procrastinating! Sorry! I've finally got around to the second book! I've read back over the first one, and some of the chapters aren't up to the quality of the others, so I'll probably take more time with the chapters from now on, which means I won't update as quickly. But for now, enjoy the first chapter.**

**Chapter One: The Worst Birthday present**

Not for the first time that summer, an argument had broken out over breakfast at number 7 Bramble Lane. Mr Remus Lupin had received a letter the previous week informing him that Jessica, his eleven (almost twelve) year old adopted daughter would be taken to live with her aunt and uncle. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled deeply. "Jessica, I've told you a thousand times. You _will _be going to the Dursley's house today. It's the safest place for you."

"I don't see why I have to through. They sound horrid! Why can't I stay here?" Jessica retorted. She had been asking this exact question ever since the letter had arrived, and never gotten a straight answer.

"Dumbledore believes that it is best that you live there with your brother. And I am not one to argue with one of the greatest wizards alive."

Jessica sighed, defeated. She didn't know why Dumbledore had such a large part to play in the running of her life, sure he was possibly one of the greatest Headmasters Hogwarts had ever had, but he was really just her headmaster. She didn't know how everyone just accepted that she was to move away, only because Professor Dumbledore said it would be best. It just didn't seem normal. But, then again, nothing about Jessica was normal.

Jessica was a witch – a witch fresh out of her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. At the end of last year she had discovered that she was a Potter, and she had a twin brother named Harry who lived in Surrey with his muggle aunt and Uncle. And if Remus and her family were sad to see her go, it was nothing to how Jessica felt.

She would be living with muggles, which meant that the familiar magic that hung in the air would be gone. She wouldn't be able to practise Quidditch, the most popular sport in the wizarding world (six tall goal-posts, four flying balls and fourteen players on broomsticks)

As it was, Jessica wasn't allowed to use magic herself, and her wand was kept safely in a cupboard so she wasn't tempted. But she had no idea what would happen when she arrived at the Dursley's.

Swallowing the last bite of her toast, Jessica stood and walked zombie-like up to her room to coax her cat, Truffles into a cage so she could take her to the Dursleys.

She was just closing the cage when she heard a small knock on the door. She turned and saw Remus leaning against the doorframe.

"Hey Jess," he said calmly, "I know you don't want to leave, but it really is best if you go."

"I know, it's just, it's my birthday and I really don't want to have to go away and live with the Dursleys today. It's the worst birthday present."

"I know." He came into the room and sat down on Jessica's bed. He patted the spot next to him and Jessica sat down.

"Jessica, it _is _still your birthday, and I hope that one more gift will make it more bearable to move away." He reached in to his pocket and pulled out a small box. Curious, Jessica took it and carefully opened it. Inside was a gold chain necklace with a small crystal pendant that looked almost ghostly, reminding Jessica of the full moon. She lifted it up and watched the light filter through it. Rainbows reflected and danced off the smooth round sides.

"It's beautiful." She said, slipping it on over her head.

"Good," Said Remus. "Come on now, we have to get going."

He carried her trunk down the stairs and grabbed her wand from a cupboard on the way.

"We'll be going by Floo powder. The Dursleys have a neighbour who has agreed to let us pass by." He said, taking the trunk over to the fireplace. He grabbed some Floo powder and threw it onto the flames that promptly turned a bright, emerald green. He stepped into them and, with a tough grip on Jessica's trunk, "Number five, Wisteria Walk," He said, and he vanished.

Jessica stepped up and did the same. She felt the sensation of spinning and suddenly, it was over. She stepped out into a living room and was struck with the strong smell of cabbage. There were at least five cats in the living room alone, purring on and old sofa that was covered in awful crocheted cushions. In the centre of the room stood Remus, talking to an old lady, who looked kind enough, but there was something very odd about her.

"Hello there, you must be Jessica!" she said with a gigantic smile on her face.

"Jessica, this is Mrs Figg. She's going to take you down to Privet Drive," Said Remus.

"Wait, you aren't coming?"

"No, but it's less than a five minute walk. You'll be fine. Now, time to get going."

This was the moment Jessica had been dreading. She turned and hugged Remus in a tight bear hug.

"I'll miss you."

"Me too, Jess, but remember, no one really says goodbye forever, we can always find them again, if we look deep enough."

And with that, he said one more goodbye, and then left through the fireplace again. Jessica stared as the green flames died down.

"Well, dear. There's no reason to wait here. Let's take you down to Privet Drive," Said Mrs Figg, breaking the silence. She picked up Jessica's trunk, obviously struggling with the weight, but Jessica quickly took it from her, carrying it herself, letting Mrs Figg, instead carry Truffles' cage. They walked along Wisteria Walk in near silence, until they reached Privet Drive. Jessica stared at the street in awe; the first thing that struck her was that it was so _ordinary. _All the houses looked the same, with the same neatly pruned gardens at the fronts.

"That's number four, over there," Said Mrs Figg, pointing to the second house on the opposite side of the street, the same as all the others. Looking at it you wouldn't be able to tell that one of the inhabitants of the house was a young wizard.

Jessica shakily followed Mrs Figg up to the front door. She rang the doorbell. There were the muffled sounds of shouting coming from inside. When they died down, Jessica was sure she heard a soft patter of footsteps coming to the door. Jessica was relieved to see Harry open the door and relaxed. It would be fine here with Harry. They smiled at each other for a brief moment before a thundering voice made Harry's head snap around.

"Who's that at the door?"

"Uncle Vernon, it's Mrs Figg with my sister, Jessica." Harry called back.

Suddenly a very large man, who must have been Vernon Dursley, with hardly any neck and a very large moustache, appeared behind Harry.

"Thank you, Arabella. We'll take her now." He said grumpily. Jessica stepped through the doorway, and barely a second after she had gotten over the threshold, he slammed the door behind her.

Number four Privet Drive had four bedrooms: three upstairs for Harry, Mr and Mrs Dursley and their son, Dudley. There was one more small room downstairs for guests, which was to become Jessica's room. She put her trunk down next to the bed and looked around at the pale peach walls, mentally deciding she would need lots of pictures to cover them up. There was a knock on the door. It was Harry.

"Harry! I missed you!" she said as she wrapped him in a tight hug.

"I missed you too! But we have to go to the kitchen now."

Harry led her down the hallway, pausing beside the cupboard under the stairs with a look of longing on his face.

"Harry, what's in–?"

"Nothing, you'll find out sooner or later."

They entered the kitchen, and all three Dursleys were sitting around the table. Mrs Durdley was blonde and thin, much more neck than anyone could ever possibly need, which made up for Mr Dursley having next to no neck. She narrowed her eyes when she saw Jessica. Their son, Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon; he had a large, pink face,not much neck, small, watery blue eyes and thick, blonde hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. He reminded Jessica of a pig. He was eating a sausage with his mouth open.

At that moment, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat importantly.

"Now, as we all know, today is a very important day."

Jessica couldn't help but agree. Not only was it herself and Harry's birthday, but they were finally reunited as a family.

"This could well be the day I make the biggest deal of my career," said Uncle Vernon.

Jessica looked down, disappointed.

"I think we should run over the schedule one more time," said Uncle Vernon. "We should be in position at eight o' clock, Petunia, you ..."

Jessica stopped paying attention and turned to Harry.

"What's happening?" she mouthed.

"Some rich builder's coming for a stupid dinner party so Uncle Vernon can sell him drills."

"Oh."

"And _you?_" Uncle Vernon said, rounding on Harry.

"I'll be in my room. Making no noise and pretending I don't exist," Harry said tonelessly.

"Exactly," said Uncle Vernon nastily. "What about _you_?" he said, addressing Jessica for the first time.

"I'll, er, I'll be..." she stammered, looking to Harry for help.

"She'll be in _her_ room. Making no noise and pretending she doesn't exist." Harry interjected.

"No. That's too close to where we'll be. You will be in Harry's room," said Uncle Vernon.

"Making no noise pretending I don't exist?" asked Jessica.

"Precisely." He said, almost venomously. "I will lead them to the lounge, introduce you, Petunia ..."

Jessica stopped listening, already counting the days until September 1st. Thirty-two, including today, surely she could make that.

"_You?_" asked Uncle Vernon again.

"I'll be in my room. Making no noise and pretending I don't exist," Harry said dully.

Uncle Vernon looked at Jessica.

"I'll be in Harry's room. Making no noise and pretending I don't exist."

"Very good. Now, we should aim to get ion a few good compliments during dinner. Petunia, any ideas?"

"Vernon tells me you're a _wonderful_ golfer, Mr Mason ... _Do_ tell me where you bought your dress, Mrs Mason ..."

"Perfect ... Dudley?"

"How about: 'We had to write an essay about our hero at school, Mr Mason, and I wrote about _you_."

This was too much for Aunt Petunia, Harry and Jessica. Aunt Petunia burst into tears and hugged her son, while Harry and Jessica ducked under the table so no one would see them laughing.

"And you?"

They fought to keep straight faces as they emerged.

"We'll be in Harry's room. Making no noise and pretending we don't exist." Jessica said.

"Too right, you will," said Uncle Vernon forcefully. "The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. When dinner's over, you take Mrs Mason back to the lounge for coffee, Petunia, and I'll bring the subject round to drills. With any luck, I'll have the deal signed before the _News at Ten._ We'll be shopping for a holiday home in Majorca this time tomorrow."

Jessica didn't feel too excited about this. Surely the Dursleys wouldn't be any nicer in Majorca than they were in Privet Drive.

"Right – I'm off into town to pick up dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And _you two,_" he snarled at Harry and Jessica, "you stay out of your aunt's way while she's cleaning."

Harry and Jessica left through the back door. It was a brilliant, sunny day. They crossed the lawn, and slumped down on the garden bench and Harry began to sing under his breath, "_Happy birthday to us ... Happy birthday to us..."_

Jessica joined in and soon they were in fit of laughter.

"Jess, I'm so glad you're here. It'll be so much more bearable together," said Harry suddenly.

"Me too. Which reminds me, wait here."

She ran back inside to her new room and rummaged in her trunk until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed it and went back out to Harry, holding it behind her back.

"Close your eyes," she said. She placed the package she was holding into his hand. Harry's eyes fluttered open. He looked at the package, then up at Jessica.

"Happy birthday!"

"Oh, wow, I'm sorry Jess, but I didn't get you anything."

"That's fine, I've got plenty. Just open it!"

He ripped open the paper, and inside was a container filled with treats, from cauldron cakes to pumpkin pasties to Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"I've missed these so much! Thanks Jess!" exclaimed Harry, hugging her.

They happily talked and ate until Harry suddenly became very still, staring at the hedge. Jessica looked in shock. _The hedge was staring back._ Two enormous green eyes had appeared among the leaves.

Harry jumped to his feet just as a jeering voice floated across the lawn.

"I know what day it is," sang Dudley, waddling towards them.

The huge eyes blinked and vanished.

"Well done," said Harry. "So you've finally learnt the days of the week."

"Today's your _birthday_," sneered Dudley. "How come you haven't got any cards? Haven't you got any friends at that freak place?"

"Better not let your mum hear you talking about my school," said Harry coolly.

Dudley hitched up his trousers, which were slipping down his fat bottom.

"Why're you staring at the hedge?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," said Harry.

Dudley stumbled back at once, a look of panic on his face. Seeing Harry would pay for that remark, Jessica quickly intervened.

"Harry, don't be ridiculous! Dudley, he's onl

"Harry, don't be ridiculous! Dudley, he's only joking. We don't learn spells like that until at least next term."

Dudley stopped a shocked look on his face.

"We're all family! Here, have a jelly bean," she said, holding out the box of every flavour beans. Dudley stared at them hesitantly. "Come on, they're jelly beans, I bought them from the shop a few days ago. Nothing to be worried about."

Dudley reluctantly reached out for a bean. When he put it in his mouth, however, he began to gag, and spat it out.

"That tastes like vomit!" he yelled.

Jessica shugged, "Probably is," said, her and Harry a fit of laughter.

"MUUUUUUUM!" howled Dudley, tripping over his feet as he dashed back towards the house. "MUUUUM! They tried to poison me!"  
Harry and Jessica paid dearly for their moment of fun. As Dudley was in no way hurt, Aunt Petunia knew they hadn't done anything too bad, but they still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at their heads with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave them work to do, with promise they couldn't eat until they were finished.

While Dudley lolled around eating ice-creams, Harry and Jessica cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses and re-painted the garden bench. The sun blazed overhead, burning the backs of their necks the work made their backs ache.

It was half past seven in the evening when at last, exhausted, they heard Aunt Petunia calling them.

"Get in here! And walk on the newspaper!"

They gladly moved into the shade of the gleaming kitchen. On top of the fridgestood tonight's pudding: a huge mound of whipped cream and sugared violets. A joint of roast pork was sizzling in the oven.

"Eat quickly! The Masons will be here soon!" snapped Aunt Petunia , pointing to a few slices of bread and a lump of cheese on the kitchen table. She was already wearing a salmon-pink cocktail dress.

Harry and Jessica washed their hands and bolted down supper. The moment they had finished, Aunt Petunia whisked away their plates. "Upstairs! Hurry!"

As they passed the door to the living room, Jessica caught a glance of Uncle Vernon and Dudley in bowties and dinner jackets. She and Harry had only just reached the upstairs landing when the doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon's furious face appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"Remember – one sound ..."

They crossed to Harry's bedroom on tiptoe, slipped inside and closed the door. Harry turned to collapse onto the bed, but caught himself at the last possible second.

There was already someone sitting on it.

**Hmmmm... I wonder who this could be... Again, sorry for not updating, and the ending of that chapter probably isn't very goo, because it's getting close to 1am here... anyway hope you liked it and the next chapter will hopefully be up soon.**


	2. Dobby's Warning

**Hello people of fan fiction! Wildwriter97 here with the next chapter for you guys **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did I'd be out signing books and making money rather than sitting in my room listening to music and writing this!**

**On an unrelated note, I read this really cool fic by LaurenKate67. It's called **_**Forbidden Love**_**, and I'd recommend it to anyone looking for a good read (It's about the Starkid play **_**Starship**_**)**

**But before that, I proclaim, chapter two!**

**Chapter 2: Dobby's Warning**

Jessica almost shouted out, but managed not to. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. Jessica recognised it instantly as a house elf, and was pretty sure this was what had been watching them out of the garden hedge that morning.

As they stared at each other, they heard Dudley's voice from the hall.

"May I take your coats, Mr and Mrs Mason?"

The house elf slipped of the bed and bowed so low that the end of its long nose touched the carpet. Jessica noticed it was wearing what looked like an old pillowcase, with rips for arm and leg-holes.

"Er – hello," said Harry nervously.

"Harry Potter!" said the elf, in a high pitched voice Jessica was sure would carry down the stairs. "And Jessica Potter! So long had Dobby wanted to meet you, sir and miss ... Such an honour it is ..."

"Th-thank you," said Harry, edging along the wall and sinking into his desk chair, next to owl Hedwig, who was asleep in her large, securely locked, cage. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house elf," said the creature.

"Oh – really?" said Harry. "Er – I don't want to be rude or anything, but – this isn't really a great time for me to have a house elf in my bedroom."

Aunt Petunia's high, false laugh sounded from the living room. The elf hung his head.

"No, he doesn't mean that, er – Dobby. It's a pleasure to meet you, but now isn't the best time for us to talk to you. You see, we're not really supposed to make any noise at all tonight, so I hope you're here for a very important reason," said Jessica in a hoarse whisper.

"Oh yes, miss," said Dobby earnestly. "Dobby has come to tell you, sir and miss ... it is difficult ... Dobby wonders where to begin ..."

"Sit down," said Harry politely, pointing at the bed.

Jessica slapped him. Hard. "Harry," she hissed, "you don't just ask a house elf to sit down!"

"Why not?"

As if on cue, Dobby burst into tears – very noisy tears.

"_S-sit down!_" he wailed. "_Never ... never ever ..."_

Jessica thought she heard the voices downstairs falter.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, "I didn't mean to offend you or anything."

Jessica sighed. Harry was digging them a deeper grave by the minute.

"Offend Dobby!" chocked the elf. "Dobby has _never _been asked to sit down by a wizard – like an _equal –"_

Harry ushered Dobby onto the bed, hushing him and trying to look comforting. The elf eventually calmed down enough to sit on the bed, hiccoughing, looking like a large and very ugly doll. At last he managed to control himself, and sat with his eyes fixed on the twins in an expression of watery adoration.

"You can't have met many decent wizards," said Harry, in an attempt to cheer him up.

Dobby shook his head. Then, without warning, he leapt up and started banging his head furiously on the window, shouting, "Bad Dobby! _Bad _Dobby!"

"Don't – what are you doing?" Harry hissed, springing up and pulling Dobby back onto the bed. Hedwig woke up with a particularly loud screech and was beating her wings wildly against the bars of her cage.

"Dobby had to punish himself," said the elf, who had gone slightly cross-eyed. "Dobby almost spoke ill of his family ..."

"Your family?"

"The wizard family Dobby serves, sir ..." Dobby is a house-elf – bound to serve one house and one family forever ..."

"Do they know you're here?" asked Harry curiously.

Dobby shuddered.

"Oh no, sir, no ... Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir and miss. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew ..."

"But won't they notice if you shut your ears in the oven door?"

"Dobby doubts it. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something. They lets Dobby get on with it. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments ..."

"But why don't you leave? Escape?"

"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free ... Dobby will serve the family until he dies ..."

Harry's face took on a look of shock

"And I thought I was hard-done-by staying here for another four weeks," he said. "This makes the Dursleys sound almost human. Can't anyone help you? Can't I?"

Almost at once, Jessica wished he hadn't spoken. Dobby dissolved again into wails of gratitude.

"Please," Harry whispered frantically, "Please be quiet. If the Dursleys hear anything –"

"Harry," Jessica hissed, "please, just shut up. You're making it worse. Let me do the talking."

He gave an unwilling nod.

"Now, Dobby," she began gently, "Sorry about my brother. He's never met a house-elf before, so forgive him for not knowing how to act."

"Dobby is the first house-elf Harry Potter has met?"

Jessica planted her face into her hands, realising what she had done.

"Dobby is honoured, sir," said the elf, bowing again. "And Harry Potter has not said one thing nasty to Dobby. Dobby has heard of your greatness, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew ..."

"Whatever you've heard about my greatness is a load of rubbish. I'm not even top of my year at Hogwarts, that's Jessica and Hermione, they –"

But he stopped abruptly.

"Harry Potter is humble and modest," said Dobby reverently, his orb-like eyes aglow. "Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He Who Must Not Be Named."

"Voldemort?" Said Harry.

Jessica sharply took in a breath and Dobby clapped his hands over his bat ears and moaned, "Ah, do not speak the name, sir! Speak not the name!"

"Sorry," said Harry quickly. "I know lots of people who don't like it – my friend Ron ..."

He stopped again.

Dobby leaned towards the two twins, his eyes wide as headlamps.

"Dobby heard tell," He said hoarsely, "that the two Potters met the Dark Lord for the second time, just weeks ago ... That the two Potters escaped _yet again._"

Harry and Jessica both nodded and Dobby's eyes suddenly shone with tears. He gasped, dabbing his face with a corner of the grubby pillowcase he was wearing. "Harry and Jessica Potter are valiant and bold! They have braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry and Jessica Potter, to warn them, even if he _does_ have to shut his ear in the oven door later... _Harry and Jessica Potter must not return to Hogwarts_."

There was a silence broken only by the chinking of knives and forks from downstairs and the distant rumble of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"W-what?" Harry stammered. "But we've got to go back – term starts on September the first. It's all that's keeping us going. You don't know what it's like here. We don't _belong_ here. We belong in your world – at Hogwarts."

"No, no, no," squeaked Dobby, shaking his head so hard his ears flapped. "The Potters must stay where it is safe. They are too great, too good to lose. If Harry and Jessica Potter go back to Hogwarts, they will be in mortal danger."

"Why?" asked Jessica in surprise.

"There is a plot, miss. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, suddenly trembling all over. "Dobby has known it for months. Harry and Jessica must not put themselves in peril. They are too important!"

"What terrible things?" said Harry at once. "Who's plotting them?"

Dobby made a funny choking noise and then banged his head madly against the wall.

"All right!" cried Harry, grabbing the elf's arm to stop him. "You can't say, we understand. But why are you warning _us_?"

A sudden, horrid thought struck Jessica. "Wait a second – does this have something to do with You Know Who?"

"Just shake or nod," added Harry hastily, as Dobby's head tilted worryingly close to the wall again.

Slowly, Dobby shook his head.

"Not – not _He Who Must Not Be Named_,"

But Dobby's eyes were wide and he seemed to be trying to give them a hint. Jessica, however, was completely at sea.

"He hasn't got a brother, has he?" asked Harry uncertainly.

Dobby shook his head, his eyes open wider than ever.

"Well then, I can't see who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts," said Harry. "I mean, there's Dumbledore, for one thing – you know who Dumbledore is, don't you?"

Dobby bowed his head

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest headmaster Hogwarts has ever had. Dobby knows it, sir. Dobby has heard Dumbledore's powers rival those of He Who Must Not Be Named at the height of his strength. But sir," Dobby's voice dropped to an urgent whisper, "there are powers Dumbledore doesn't ... powers no decent wizard ..."

And before either Harry or Jessica could stop him, Dobby bounced off the bed, seized Harry's desk lamp and started beating himself around the head with ear-splitting yelps.

A sudden silence fell downstairs. Two seconds later Jessica, heart pounding, hears Uncle Vernon coming into the hall, calling, "Dudley must have left his television on again, the little tyke!"

"Quick! Into the wardrobe!" hissed Harry, stuffing Dobby in, shutting the door, and flinging himself onto the bed while Jessica dived into the desk chair just as the door handle turned.

"What – the – _devil_ – is – going – on – here!" said Uncle Vernon through gritted teeth. "You've just ruined the punch line of my Japanese golfer joke ... one more sound and you'll wish you'd never have been born, both of you!"

He stomped flat-footed from the room.

Shaking, Jessica let Dobby out of the wardrobe.

"See what it's like here?"Harry said. "See why we've got to go back to Hogwarts? It's the only place we've got – well I think we've got friends."

"Friends who don't even _write_ to Harry Potter?" asked Dobby slyly.

"What? We've all been writing to Harry. He hasn't been responding, but I see why with Hedwig locked up like that. But what do you know about it?" asked Jessica suspiciously.

Dobby shuffled his feet.

"Harry Potter mustn't be angry with Dobby – Dobby did it for the best ..."

"_Have you been stopping my letters?_" Harry asked, angrily.

"Dobby has them right here, sir," said the elf. Stepping nimbly out of Harry and Jessica's reach, he pulled a thick wad of envelopes from the inside of the pillowcase he was wearing. Jessica could make out Hermione's neat writing, Ron's untidy scrawl, a scribble that looked like it was from Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts, and even her own looping lettering.

Dobby blinked anxiously up at Harry.

"Harry Potter mustn't be angry ... Dobby hoped ... if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him ... Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir ..."

Harry and Jessica weren't listening. They made a grab for the letters, but Dobby jumped out of reach.

"Harry Potter will have them, if he gives Dobby his word that he and Jessica will not return to Hogwarts. There is a danger you must not face! Say you won't go back!"

"No," said Harry angrily. "Give me my friend's letters!"

"Then Harry Potter leaves Dobby no choice," said the elf sadly.

Before either of the twins could move, Dobby had darted to the bedroom door, pulled it open – and sprinted down the stairs.

Mouth dry, stomach lurching, Jessica followed Harry as he sprang after Dobby, trying not to make a sound. They jumped down the last six stairs, landing cat-like on the hall carpet, looking for the elf. From the dining room they heard Uncle Vernon saying, "... tell Petunia that very funny story about those American plumbers, Mr Mason, she's been dying to hear ..."

Jessica ran up the hall into the kitchen and felt her stomach disappear.

Aunt Petunia's masterpiece of a pudding, the mountain of cream and sugared violets, was floating up near the ceiling. On top of a cupboard in the corner crouched Dobby.

"No," croaked Harry. "Please ... they'll kill us ..."

Harry and Jessica Potter must say they're not going back to school –"

"Dobby, please ..."

"Say it ..."

"We can't!"

Dobby gave them a tragic look.

"Then Dobby must do it, for the Potter's own good."

The pudding fell towards the floor almost in slow motion. Without thinking, Jessica whipped out her wand. "Wingardium Levisosa!" she said hoarsely, and the pudding wobbled in mid-air. With a jolt, Jessica realised she was breaking the law and dropped her wand in surprise. With a heart stopping crash, the pudding fell to the ground. Cream splattered the windows and walls as the dish shattered. With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished.

There were screams from the dining room and Uncle Vernon burst into the kitchen to find Harry and Jessica, rigid with shock, covered from head to foot in Aunt Petunia's pudding.

Jessica managed to hide her wand back in her pocket before the Masons saw it, and it looked as though Uncle Vernon would manage to gloss the whole thing over ("Just our niece and nephew – both very disturbed – meeting strangers upsets them, so we keep them upstairs...") He shooed the Masons back into the dining room, promised Harry and Jessica he would flay them within an inch of their lives when the Masons had left, and handed then a mop and a bucket. Aunt Petunia dug some ice cream out of the freezer and the twins, still shaking, started scrubbing the kitchen clean.

Uncle Vernon might have still have been able to make his deal – if it hadn't been for the owl.

Aunt Petunia was just handing round a box of after-dinner mints when a huge barn owl swooped through the dining room window, dropped a letter on Mrs Mason's head and swooped out again. Mrs Mason screamed like a banshee and ran from the house shouting about lunatics. Mr Mason stayed long enough to tell the Dursleys that his wife was mortally afraid of birds of all shapes and sizes, and to ask whether this was their idea of a joke.

Harry and Jessica stood in the kitchen, clutching each other for support as Uncle Vernon advanced on them, a demonic glint in his eye.

"Read it!" he hissed evilly, brandishing the letter the owl had delivered. "Go on – read it!"

Harry took it. It did not contain birthday greetings.

_Dear Mr and Miss Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that two Hover Charms were used at your place of residence this evening at twelve past nine._

_As you know, under-age wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside of school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Under-Age Sorcery, 1895, Paragraph C)._

_We would also ask you to remember that any magical activity which risks notice by members of the non-magical community (Muggles) is a serious offence, under section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy._

_Enjoy your holidays!_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Jessica sighed and looked at the ground. She had really done it now. Her and Harry were in serious trouble.

"You didn't tell us you weren't allowed to use magic outside school," said Uncle Vernon, a mad gleam dancing in his eyes. "Forgot to mention it ... slipped your mind, I daresay ..."

He was bearing down on Harry and Jessica like a great bulldog, all his teeth bared. "Well, I've got news for you ... I'm locking you up ... you're never going back to that school ... never ... and if you try and magic yourself out – they'll expel you!"

And laughing like a maniac, he dragged Harry and Jessica to their rooms.

Uncle Vernon was as bad as his word. The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Harry and Jessica's windows. He fitted cat flaps in the two bedroom doors himself, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry and Jessica out to use the bathroom morning and evening, and when they passed in the hallway was the only time they could see each other. Otherwise, they were locked in their rooms around the clock.

Three days later, the Dursleys were showing no signs of relenting and Jessica couldn't see any way out of the situation. She lay back on her bed and stared at the moon chart she had taped there. It would be the full moon in a few days time. Absentmindedly, she twirled her moon pendant in the light watching the rainbows leapt in front of her eyes. She wished she was back with the Lupins; she didn't belong here, locked up in a horrid little room with no contact to her friends, or magic.

The cat flap rattled and Truffles stalked into the room. There was a note attached to her collar and a dead mouse in her mouth. Jessica took the note and Truffles stalked into a corner to play with the mouse before she devoured it. Carefully, Jessica unfolded the thin paper. She smiled.

_Jess, are you still sure Truffles is a good way to pass notes? Anyway, August 3__rd__, that's 27 days until September 1__st__. Do you think we'll ever go back?_

_Harry._

Jessica and Harry had been passing notes to each other by sending Truffles between their rooms, and although Jessica was convinced it worked just fine, Harry was still sceptical. After scribbling a hasty reply, she decided Truffles had done enough for the night. After watching the cat devour the mouse, the cat flap rattled once again and a bowl of vegetable soup was pushed into the room. After offering some to Truffles, (who turned up her nose at it) Jessica downed most of it in one gulp. After choking on a soggy piece of carrot, she felt it best if she left the rest for later.

Stomach growling for more food, Jessica settled into bed for an early night. Truffles leapt up and snuggled under her arm and together they fell into an uneasy sleep.

She dreamed that she was floating in mid-air. When she looked down, she could see Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys and some of her friends from Hogwarts on the ground, staring up at her. Dobby was there too, casting the charm that held her in the air. "Put me down!" she yelled.

"Jessica Potter cannot go to Hogwarts now," said Dobby with a smile. "Jessica Potter is safe there, miss."

She yelled at everyone on the ground to help her down, but they all turned away, and piled – impossibly into an old turquoise car and drove away. Suddenly, Dobby released her and she fell to the ground bracing for impact...

Jessica woke with a start, scaring Truffles off the bed. Strangely, she thought she could hear a car outside her window, but she saw none. Carefully, she opened her window as far as the bars would allow and stuck her head out. There were no cars on the street, but she could swear the noise was real. She tilted her head cautiously to look up and gasped. Directly above her, right outside Harry's window, was a floating car.


	3. The Burrow

**Hello all! I might get more updates rolling out for the week because it's the holidays (yay!). So to celebrate, I'm giving you chapter three!**

**Remember guys, I'm not the wonderful JKR, so I don't own Harry Potter.**

**Chapter three: The Burrow**

As Jessica stared, wide-eyed at the underside of the car above, and unmistakeable voice floated down to her ears. "What's been going on?"

"Ron," whispered Jessica. Ronald Weasley had come to Privet Drive in a _flying car_. Ducking her head back into her room, Jessica breathed a sigh of relief. "Ron's here, Truffles," she said to her cat. "We might be able to finally leave."

Looking around her room, Jessica realised that barely anything was in her trunk. There were books covering her desks from her hours of working at her homework, her school robes had been hung up and practically every item she'd want to take with her was scattered across her room. She snapped into action throwing things into her trunk at the speed of light and managed to coax Truffles into her cage in less than two minutes. Just as she locked the cat cage she heard a loud smash coming from upstairs and watched as small pieces of rubble fell past her window. She prayed the Durselys wouldn't wake up and sat on her bed, anxiously awaiting a sign as to what would happen next.

Barely a minute later, her door handle rattled and then the door swung open, revealing Fred Weasley, one of Ron's brothers, with a very smug look on his face.

"Fancy seeing you here," he whispered cheekily.

"Yeah, hello to you two." Jessica whispered back. "What's going on?"

"Tell you later. We're escaping through Harry's room. Need help with that?" he asked pointing the Jessica's trunk.

"Yeah thanks. By the way, look out for the bottom step, it –"

"Creaks. We know," interrupted George, appearing at his twin's shoulder.

The three of them struggled up the stairs with both Harry and Jessica's things, before Harry arrived and helped them the rest of the way. Jessica heard Uncle Vernon cough.

At last, panting, they reached the landing, than carried the trunks through Harry's room to the open window. Fred climbed into the flying car where Ron was waiting. He and Fred pulled while George, Harry and Jessica pushed from the bedroom side. Inch by inch, they slid Jessica and Harry's trunks out of the window.

Uncle Vernon coughed again.

"Just a bit more," panted Fred, who was pulling from inside the car, "one good push ..."

Harry, George and Jessica threw their shoulders against the trunk and it slid out the window and into the backseat of the car.

"OK, that's both of them," George whispered. "Let's go."

George got in first, followed by Jessica, but as Harry climbed onto the window-sill there came a sudden loud screech from behind him, followed immediately by the thunder of Uncle Vernon's voice.

"THAT RUDDY OWL!"

"I've forgotten Hedwig!"

Harry tore back across the room as the landing light clicked on. He snatched up Hedwig's cage, dashed to the window and passed it out to Jessica. He was scrambling back onto the chest of drawers when Uncle Vernon hammered on the unlocked door – and it crashed open.

For a split second, Uncle Vernon stood framed in the doorway; then he let out a bellow like an angry bull and dived at Harry, grabbing him by the ankle. Jessica, Ron, Fred and George seized Harry's arms and pulled as hard as they could.

"Petunia!" roared Uncle Vernon. "They're getting away! THEY'RE GETTING AWAY!"

The Weasleys and Jessica gave a gigantic tug and Harry's leg slid out of Uncle Vernon's grasp. As soon as Harry was in the car, and had slammed the door shut Ron yelled, "Put your foot down, Fred!" and the car shot suddenly towards the moon.

Jessica couldn't believe it – they were free. Harry wound down the window, the night air whipping into the car and throwing her hair into Ron's face. They both looked back down at the shrinking rooftops of Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley were all hanging, dumbstruck, out of Harry's window.

"See you next summer!"

Everyone in the car roared with laughter and Harry settled back in his seat, grinning from ear to ear.

"Let Hedwig out," he told Ron, "She can fly behind us. She hasn't had a chance to stretch her wings for ages."George handed a hairpin to Ron, who picked the padlock on Hedwig's cage. A moment later, Hedwig had soared joyfully out of the window to glide alongside them like a ghost.

"So – What's the story, you two?" said Ron impatiently. "What's been going on?"

Harry and Jessica told them all about Dobby, the warning he'd given Harry and Jessica and the fiasco of the violet pudding. There was a long shocked silence when they had finished.

"Very fishy," said Fred finally.

"Definitely dodgy," agreed George. "So he wouldn't even tell you who's supposed to be plotting all this stuff?"

"I don't think he could," said Harry. "We told you, every time he got close to letting something slip, he started banging his head against the wall."

Fred and George looked at each other.

"What, do you think he might've been lying to us?" said Jessica.

"Well," said Fred, "put it this way – house-elves have got powerful magic of their own, but they can't use it without their master's permission. I reckon old Dobby was sent to stop you coming back to Hogwarts. Someone's idea of a joke. Can you think of anyone at school with a grudge against you?"

"Yes," said Harry Ron and Jessica together, instantly.

"Draco Malfoy," Harry explained. "He hates us."

"Draco Malfoy?" said George, turning around. "Not Lucius Malfoy's son?"

"Must be, it's not a very common name, is it?" said Harry. "Why?"

"I've heard dad talking about him," said George. "He was a big supporter of You Know Who."

"And when You Know Who disappeared," said Fred, craning around to look at Harry and Jessica, "Lucius Malfoy came back saying he'd never meant any of it. Load of dung – Dad reckons he was right in You Know Who's inner circle."

Jessica had already heard all these rumours about the Malfoy family before, and they didn't come with any surprise. Draco Malfoy made Dudley look like a kind, sensitive boy.

"I don't know whether the Malfoys own a house-elf ..." said Harry.

"Well, whoever owns him will be an old wizarding family, and they'll be rich," said Fred.

"Yeah, mum's always wishing we had a house-elf to do the ironing," said George. "But all we've got is a lousy old ghoul in the attic and gnomes all over the garden. House-elves come with big old manors and castles and places like that, you wouldn't catch one in our house ..."

Jessica and Harry fell silent. Judging by the fact that Draco Malfoy usually had the best of everything, his family were rolling in wizard gold. Jessica could just see Malfoy strutting around a large manor house. Sending the family house-elf to stop Harry and Jessica going back to Hogwarts also sounded exactly like the sort of thing Malfoy would do. Had they really been so stupid to take Dobby seriously?

"I'm glad we came to get you, anyway," said Ron. "I was getting worried when you didn't answer my letters. And Jessica stopped right when she went to live with you. I thought it was Errol's fault at first –"

"Who's Errol?"

"Our owl. He's ancient. It wouldn't be the first time he'd collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes –"

"_Who?_"

"The owl Mum and Dad bought Percy when he was made a prefect," said Fred from the front.

"But Percy wouldn't lend him to me," said Ron. "Said he needed him."

"Percy's been acting very oddly this summer," said George, frowning. "And he _has_ been sending a lot of letters and spending a lot of time shut up in his room ... I mean, there's only so many times you can polish a Prefect badge ... You're driving too far west, Fred," he added, pointing at a compass on the dashboard. Fred twiddled the steering wheel.

"So, does your Dad know you've got the car?" said Harry, sounding as if he already knew the answer.

"Er, no," said Ron, "he had to work tonight. Hopefully we'll be able to get it back in the garage without Mum noticing we flew."

"Fat chance of that working," Jessica snorted. "Have you ever actually managed to sneak something past your Mum? I don't think anything could get past her."

Fred sighed. "You're right. We're so dead when we get home."

After a depressed silence in the car, Harry finally continued on the conversation. "So what does your Dad do anyway?"

"He works at the Ministry," said Ron. "In the most boring department: The Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."

"The _what?_"

"It's all to do with bewitching things that are Muggle- made, you know, in case they end up back in a Muggle shop or house. Like, last year, some old witch died and her tea set was sold to an antiques shop. This Muggle woman bought it, took it home and tried to serve her friends tea in it. It was a nightmare – Dad was working overtime for weeks."

"What happened?"

"The teapot went beserk and squirted boiling tea all over the place and one man ended up in hospital with the sugar tongs clamped to his nose. Dad was going frantic, it's only him and an old warlock named Perkins in the office and they had to do memory charms and all sorts to cover it up ..."

"But your Dad ... this car..."

Fred laughed. "Yeah, Dad's mad about everything to do with Muggles, our shed's full of Muggle stuff. He takes it apart, puts spells on it and puts it back together again. If he raided our house he'd have to put himself straight under arrest. It drives Mum mad."

"That's the main road," said George, peering down through the windscreen. "We'll be there in ten minutes ... just as well, it's getting light ..."

A faint pinkish glow was visible along the horizon to the east.

Fred bought the car lower and Jessica could see a dark patchwork of fields and clumps of trees.

"We're a little way outside the village," said George. "Ottery St Catchpole ..."

Lower and lower went the flying car. The edge of a brilliant red sun was now gleaming through the trees.

"Touchdown!" said Fred as, with a slight bump, they hit the ground. They had landed next to a tumbledown garage in a small yard and Harry and Jessica looked out for the first time at Ron's house.

It looked as though it had once been a large, stone pigsty, but extra rooms had been added here and there until it was several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it was held up by magic (which it probably was). Four or five chimneys were perched on top of the red roof. A lopsided sign stuck in the ground near the entrance read "The Burrow". Round the front door lay a jumble of wellington boots and a very rusty cauldron. Several fat brown chickens were pecking their way around the yard.

"It's not much," said Ron.

"It's _brilliant_," said Harry and Jessica in unison, thinking of Privet Drive.

They got out of the car.

"Now, we'll go upstairs really quietly," said Fred, "and wait for mum to call us for breakfast. Then Ron, you come bounding down the stairs going "Mum, look who turned up in the night!" and she'll be all pleased to see Harry and Jessica and no one need ever know we flew the car."

"Right," said Ron. "Come on, I sleep at the –"

Ron had gone a nasty greenish colour, his eyes fixed on the house. The other four wheeled around.

Mrs Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a sabre-toothed tiger.

"_Ah_," said Fred

"Oh dear," said George.

Mrs Weasley came to a halt in front of them, her hands on her hips, staring from one guilty face to the next. She was wearing a flowered apron with a wand sticking out of the pocket.

"So," she said.

"Morning, Mum," said George in what he clearly thought was a jaunty, winning voice.

"Have you any idea how worried I've been?" said Mrs Weasley in a deadly whisper.

"Sorry Mum, but see, we had to –"

All three of Mrs Weasley's sons were taller than she was, but they cowered as her rage broke over them.

"_Beds empty! No note! Car gone ... could have crashed ... out of my mind with worry ... did you care? Never, as long as I've lived ... you wait until your father gets home, we never had trouble like this with Bill or Charlie or Percy ..._"

"Perfect Percy," muttered Fred.

"YOU COULD DO WITH TAKING A LEAF OUT OF PERCY'S BOOK!" yelled Mrs Weasley, prodding a finger in Fred's chest. "You could have _died_, you could have been _seen_, you could have lost your father his _job_ –"

It seemed to go on for hours. Mrs Weasley had shouted herself hoarse before turning on Harry and Jessica, who backed away.

"I'm very pleased to see you, dears," she said, "come in and have some breakfast."

She turned away and walked back into the house. Harry and Jessica, after a nervous look at Ron, who nodded encouragingly, followed her.

The kitchen was small and rather cramped. There was a scrubbed wooden table and chairs in the middle and Harry and Jessica sat next to each other, looking around.

The clock on the wall opposite them only had one hand and no numbers at all. Written around the edges were things like "Time to make tea", "Time to feed the chickens" and "You're late". Books were stacked three deep on the mantelpiece, with titles like _Charm your own Cheese_, _Enchantment in Baking_ and _One Minute Feasts – It's Magic!_ And an old radio next to the sink had just announced that coming up was "Witching Hour, with the popular singing sorceress Celestina Warbeck."

Mrs Weasley was clattering, cooking breakfast a little haphazardly, throwing dirty looks at her sons as she threw sausages into the frying pan. Every now and then she muttered thing like "don't know _what _you were thinking of," and "_never _would have believed it."

"I don't blame _you_, dears," she assured Harry and Jessica, tipping eight or nine sausages onto each of their plates. "Arthur and I have been worried about you too. Just last night we were saying we'd come and get you ourselves if you hadn't written back to Ron by Friday. But really," she was now adding fried eggs to their plates, "flying an illegal car halfway across the country – anyone could have seen you –"

She flicked her wand casually at the washing-up in the sink which began to clean itself, clinking gently in the background.

"It was _cloudy_, Mum!" said Fred.

"You keep your mouth closed when you're eating!" Mrs Weasley snapped.

"They were starving them, Mum!" said George.

"And you!" said Mrs Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry and Jessica bread and started buttering it for them.

At that moment, there was a diversion in the form of a small, red-headed figure in a long nightdress, who appeared in the kitchen, gave a small squeal, and ran out again.

"Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry and Jessica. "My sister. She's been talking about you all summer, Harry."

"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," grinned Fred, but he caught his mother's eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all five plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.

"Blimey, I'm tired," yawned Fred, setting down his knife and fork at last. "I think I'll go to bed and –"

"You will not," snapped Mrs Weasley. "It's your own fault you've been up all night, you're going to completely de-gnome the garden for me, they're getting completely out of hand again."

"Oh, Mum –"

"And you two," she said, glaring at Ron and Fred. "You two can go up to bed though," she added to Harry and Jessica. "You didn't ask them to fly that wretched car."

But Harry, speaking only for himself, said quickly, "We'll help Ron, we aren't that tired anyway."

"That's very sweet of you, but it's dull work," said Mrs Weasley. "Now, let's see what Lockhart's got to say on the subject."

And she pulled a heavy book from the stack on the mantelpiece. George groaned.

"Mum, we know how to de-gnome a garden."

Jessica looked at the cover of Mrs Weasley's book. Written across it in fancy gold lettering were the words: _Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests._ There was a big photograph on the front of a very good-looking wizard with wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He kept smiling and winking cheerily up at them. Mrs Weasley beamed down at him.

"Oh, he is marvellous," she said, "he knows his household pests, all right, it's a wonderful book ..."

"Mum fancies him," said Fred in a very audible whisper.

"Don't be so ridiculous, Fred," said Mrs Weasley, her cheeks rather pink. "All right, if you think you know better than Lockhart, you can go and get on with it, and woe betide you if there's a single gnome in that garden when I come out to inspect it."

Yawning and grumbling, the Weasleys slouched outside with Harry and Jessica following them. The garden was large, and in Jessica's opinion, exactly what a garden should be. She would bet that the Dursleys wouldn't like it one bit – there were a lot of weeds, and the grass needed cutting – but there were gnarled trees all around the walls, plants spilling from every flowerbed and a big green pond full of frogs.

"Muggles have garden gnomes too, you know," Harry said as they crossed the lawn.

"Yeah, I've seen those things they think are gnomes," said Ron, bent double with his head in a peony bush. "Like fat little Father Christmases with fishing rods..."

There was a violent scuffling noise, the peony bush shuddered and Ron straightened up. "_This_ is a gnome," he said grimly.

"Gerroff me! Gerroff me!" squealed the gnome.

It was nothing like a Father Christmas. It was small and leathery looking, with a large, knobbly, bald head exactly like a potato. Ron held it at arm's length as it kicked out at him with its horny little feet; he grasped it around the ankles and turned it upside down.

"This is what you have to do," he said. He raised the gnome above his head ("Gerroff me!") and started to swing it in great circles like a lasso. Seeing the shocked look on Harry's face, Ron added, "It doesn't _hurt_ them – you've just got to make them really dizzy so they can't find their way back to the gnomeholes"

He let go of the gnome's ankles: it flew twenty feet into the air and landed with a thud in the filed on the other side of the fence.

"Pitiful," said Fred. "I bet I can get mine beyond that stump."

Jessica slowly started getting the hang of throwing the gnomes – you had to not feel sorry for them. She had just done one of her best throws yet, when she turned around and saw Harry, who still hadn't quite mastered it, desperately trying to shake off a gnome that had bitten his hand. Jessica moved over to help him when suddenly –

"Wow, Harry – that must've been fifty feet."

The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.

"See, they're not too bright," said George, seizing five or six gnomes at once. "The moment they know the de-gnoming's going on they storm up to have a look. You'd think they'd have learnt by now to stay put."

Soon, the crowd of gnomes in the field started walking away in a straggling line, their little shoulders hunched.

"They'll be back," said Ron, as they watched the gnomes disappear into the hedge on the other side of the field. "They love it here ... Dad's too soft with them, he thinks they're funny..."

Just then, the front door slammed.

"He's back!" said George. "Dad's home!"they hurried through the garden and back into the house.

Mr Weasley was slumped in a kitchen chair with his glasses off and his eyes closed. He was a thin man, going bald, but the little hair he had was as red as any of his children's. He was wearing long green robes that were dusty and travel-worn,#.

"What a night," he mumbled, groping for the teapot as they all sat down around him. "Nine raids. Nine! And old Mundungus Fletcher tried to put a hex on me when I had my back turned..."

Mr Weasley took a long gulp of tea and sighed.

"Find anything, Dad?" said Fred eagerly.

"All I got were a few shrinking door-keys and a biting kettle," yawned Mr Weasley. "There was some pretty nasty stuff that wasn't my department, though. Mortlake was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that's the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness ..."

"Why would someone bother making door-keys shrink?" said George.

"Just Muggle-baiting," sighed Mr Weasley. "Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing so they can never find it when they need it ... Of course it's very hard to convict anyone because no Muggle will admit their key keeps shrinking – they'll insist they just keep losing it. Bless them, they'll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if it's staring them in the face ... but the things our lot have taken to enchanting, you wouldn't believe –"

"LIKE CARS, FOR INSTANCE?"

Mrs Weasley had appeared, holding a long poker like a sword. Mr Weasley's eyes jerked open. He stared guiltily at his wife.

"C-cars, Molly, dear?"

"Yes, Arthur, cars," said Mrs Weasley, her eyes flashing. "Imagine a wizard buying an old rusty car and telling his wife all he wanted to do was take it apart to see how it worked, while _really_ he was enchanting it to make it _fly_."

Mr Weasley blinked.

"Well, dear, I think you'll find that he would be well within the law to do that, even if, er, he maybe would have done better to, um, tell his wife the truth ... as long as he wasn't _intending _to fly the car, the fact that the car _could _fly wouldn't –"

"Arthur Weasley, you made sure there was a loophole when you wrote that law!" shouted Mrs Weasley. "Just so you could carry on tinkering with all that Muggle rubbish in your shed! And for your information, Harry and Jessica arrived this morning in the car you weren't intending to fly!"

"Harry and Jessica?" Mr Weasley blinked. "Harry and Jessica who?"

He looked around, saw Harry and Jessica and jumped.

"Good Lord, it is the Potter twins? Very pleased to meet you both, Ron's told us so much about –"

"_Your sons flew that car to their house and back last night!_" shouted Mrs Weasley. "What have you got to say about that, eh?"

"Did you really? said Mr Weasley eagerly. "Did it go all right? I – I mean," he faltered, as sparks flew from Mrs Weasley's eyes, "that – that was very wrong, boys – very wrong indeed ..."

"Let's leave them to it," Ron muttered to Harry and Jessica, as Mrs Weasley swelled like a bullfrog. "Come on, I'll show you where you'll sleep."

They slipped out of the kitchen and down a narrow passageway to an uneven staircase, which zigzagged its way up through the house. On the third landing, a door stood ajar. Jessica just caught sight of a pair of brown eyes staring at them before it closed with a snap.

"Ginny," said Ron. You don't know how wired it is for her to be this shy, she never shuts up normally ... Jessica, I guess you'll be sleeping in there."

"Well then, I'd better go introduce myself," said Jessica.

"We'll be two flights up of you need us. Come on, Harry."

Jessica watched them continue up to Ron's room, then, taking a deep breath, she knocked on Ginny's door. It opened just a crack, and Jessica saw Ginny's brown eyes stare up at her.

"Hi, Ginny," she said in the sweetest voice she could muster. "I'm Jess, Ron says I'll be sharing your room while I'm here. Can I come in?"

Ginny spoke up in a little voice, "Is anyone with you?"

"Nope, just me."

Slowly, the door opened and Jessica stepped into Ginny's room.

It was small, but there was plenty of room for an extra bed or two. There was a huge window overlooking the garden which filled the little room with an overdose of light. A white bookshelf stood in the corner and was overflowing with books that Jessica was just itching to read. The walls were painted with swirls of various shades of blue, that seemed to move and blend when you moved. And though Jessica tried, she couldn't pinpoint exactly what shade were in it, though they all ranged somewhere between a vibrant cyan to a mellow dark blue, at points there seemed to be some turquoise and gold patches thrown in for a full onslaught of colour. Though on the wall behind Ginny's bed, Jessica could see none of these colours as here Ginny had covered the wall, floor to ceiling with posters of the band the Wierd Sisters and the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team.

"Holyhead Harpies, aye?" said Jessica.

"Yeah, Ron thinks they're dumb, but I support then anyway."

"What does Ron know? We supports the Chudley Cannons! Holyheads are the best, thta's why they have fans like us."

"You're a Holyhead fan too?"

"Do I have Holyhead Harpy pyjamas?" said Jessica sarcasticly. Ginny gave her a confused look. "I do, by the way. Of course I'm a Holyhead fan."

"That's so cool. What about Harry?" Ginny asked uncertainly.

"Well, Harry's new to the Quidditch world so Ron's probably turning him into a Canon supporter as we speak."

A very disappointed "oh," escaped Ginny's mouth.

"What is it with Harry anyway? Everyone acts all star-stuck around him, then I come along and it's like I'm not as important. I ask you this honestly because, no offence, that's how you were acting earlier today." Asked Jessica, keen to wipe away Ginny's sad look.

"Oh, um, Harry, he, er," Ginny stumbled over her words, before finally getting a grip. "Well, no one knew you were alive until the end of last year, and we've all been told the story of the 'Boy Who Lived' when we grew up. I mean, he destroyed You Know Who at the age of one, he's even got that little lightning bolt scar to prove it."

"You know I have a scar too, right?" said Jessica, she didn't want to be left out of the picture.

"No. Can you show me? Please?"

"Er, ok. But I've never actually shown anyone besides Harry."

Jessica flicked her hair over her left shoulder to reveal the right half of her neck – and her scar. Ginny gasped.

"Yeah, that's really all there is to it," said Jessica as she pulled her hair back over the scar. "It's nothing special, especially because you've already seen Harry's right on his forehead ..."

But Ginny, grinning widely, said, "It's wonderful, certainly best scar I've ever seen, including Harry's."

Jessica laughed, "Thanks."

**So that was chapter three. See if you can spot my two Starkid references – one's a quote and the other would be a quote of I'd have slightly changed the wording of it (If I'd left it as it was it wouldn't have made ANY sense). If you find any others it's a happy coincidence. Anyway tomorrow I'm going to the beach so I'll try to write while I'm there but there DEFINATELY won't be any internet so I can't post anything, sorry.**


	4. At Flourish and Blotts

**Back from the beach. I managed to write this chapter and some of the next one while I was there so that should be coming sometime in the near future. Also, thanks to my two reviewers: dream lighting and SupaCrazee. You guys are awesome!**

**I still don't own Harry Potter**

**Chapter Four: At Flourish and Blotts**

Life at The Burrow was as different as possible from the life in Privet Drive. The Dursleys liked everything neat and ordered; the Weasley's house burst with the strange and unexpected. The mirror over the mantelpiece in the kitchen would often tell Harry to _"Tuck your shirt in, scruffy!"_

A ghoul in the attic would howl and drop pipes whenever he felt things were getting too quiet and small explosions from Fred and George's room were considered perfectly normal. But what seemed to overwhelm Harry the most was that everyone there liked them.

Jessica watched as Mrs Weasley fussed over the state of Harry's socks and then proceeded to offer both the Potter twins fourth helpings of every meal they ate. Mr Weasley liked to sit beside Harry and Jessica at the dinner table so that he could bombard them with questions about Muggle life, asking them to explain how things like plugs and the postal service worked.

"_Fascinating!" _ He would say as Harry talked him through using a telephone. "_Ingenious_, really, how many ways Muggles have found of getting along without magic."

They received news from Hogwarts one sunny morning about a week after Harry and Jessica had arrived at The Burrow. Ginny and Jessica went downstairs and were soon after joined by Ron and Harry. The moment Ginny saw Harry, she accidentally knocked her porridge bowl to the floor with a loud clatter. Ginny was very prone to knocking over things whenever Harry entered a room. She dived under the table to retrieve the bowl and emerged with her face glowing like the setting sun. Pretending he hadn't seen, Harry sat down and accepted the toast Mrs Weasley was offering him.

"Letters from school," said Mrs Weasley, passing Harry, Ron and Jessica identical envelopes.

"Dumbledore already knows you're both here – doesn't miss a trick, that man. You've got them, too," she added as Fred and George ambled in, still in their pyjamas.

For a few minutes there was silence as they all read their letters. Jessica's told her to catch the Hogwarts Express from Platform Nine and Three Quarters on September first, as usual. There was also a list of the new books she'd need for the coming year.

Second year students will require:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2 _byMiranda Goshawk

_Break with a Banshee _by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Holidays with Hags _by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Voyages with Vampires _by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Year with the Yeti _by Gilderoy Lockhart

Fred, who had finished his own list, peered over at Jessica's.

"You've been told to get all Lockhart's books too!" he said. "The new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan – bet it's a witch."

At this point, Fred caught his mother's eye and busied himself with the marmalade.

"That lot won't come cheap," said George, with a quick look at his parents. "Lockhart's books are really expensive ..."

Well, we'll manage," said Mrs Weasley, but she looked worried. "I expect we'll have to pick up a lot of Ginny's things second-hand."

"Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?" Harry asked Ginny.

She nodded, blushing to the roots of her flaming hair, and put her elbow in the butter dish. Fortunately, no one else saw this, because just then Ron's elder brother Percy walked in. He was already dressed, his Hogwarts prefect badge pinned to his knitted tank top.

"Morning, all," said Percy briskly. "Lovely day."

He sat down in the only remaining chair but leapt up again almost immediately, pulling from underneath him a moulting grey feather duster – at least, that's what Jessica thought it was, until she saw that it was breathing.

"Errol!" said Ron, taking the limp owl from Percy and extracting a letter from under its wing. "_Finally _– he's got Hermione's answer. I wrote to her saying we were going to try and rescue you from the Dursleys."

He carried Errol to a perch just inside the back door and tried to stand him on it, but Errol flopped straight off it again so Ron lay him on the draining board instead, muttering, "Pathetic." Then he ripped open Hermione's letter and read it aloud:

_Dear Ron, and Harry and Jessica if you're there,_

_I hope everything went alright and that Harry and Jessica are OK and that you didn't do anything illegal to get them out, Ron, because that would get them into trouble, too. I've been worried and if Harry and Jessica are alright, will you please let me know at once, but perhaps it would be better if you used a different owl, because I think one more delivery might finish your one off._

_I'm very busy with school work, of course –_"How _can _she be?" said Ron in horror. "We're on holiday!" –_ and we're going to London next Wednesday to buy my new books. Why don't we meet in Diagon Alley?_

_Let me know what's happening as soon as you can, love from Hermione._

"Well, that fits in nicely, we can go get all your things then, too," said Mrs Weasley, starting to clear up the table. "What're you all up to today?"

Harry, Ron, Jessica, Fred and George were planning to go up the hill to a small paddock the Weasleys owned. It was surrounded by trees that blocked it from the village below, meaning that they could practise Quidditch there, as long as they didn't fly too high. They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, which would have been hard to explain if they had escaped and flown away over the village; instead they threw apples for each other to catch. They took it in turns to ride Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand and Jessica's Cleansweep Seven, as they were easily the best brooms; Ron's old Shooting Star was often outstripped by passing butterflies.

Five minutes later they were marching up the hill, broomsticks over their shoulders. They had asked Percy if he wanted to join them, but he said he was too busy. Jessica had only seen Percy at meal-times so far; he stayed shut in his room for the rest of the time.

"Wish I knew what he was up to," said Fred, frowning. "He's not himself. His exam results came the day before you did; twelve O. and he hardly gloated at all."

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," George explained, seeing Harry's puzzled look. "Bill got twelve too. If we're not careful, we'll have another Head Boy in the family. I don't think I could stand the shame."

Bill was the oldest Weasley brother. He and the next brother, Charlie, had already left Hogwarts. Jessica had never met either of them, but knew that Charlie was in Romania studying dragons and Bill in Egypt working for Gringotts.

"Dunno how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year," said George after a while. "Five sets of Lockhart books! And Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything ..."

Harry and Jessica said nothing. They felt a bit awkward. Stored in a vault at Gringotts in London was a small fortune their parents had left them. Of course, it was only in the wizarding world that either of them had money; you couldn't use Galleons, Sickles and Knuts in Muggle shops. They would never tell the Dursleys this though; their horror of anything magic probably didn't stretch to a pile of gold.

Mrs Weasley woke them all early the following Wednesday. After a quick half a dozen bacon sandwiches each, they pulled on their coats and Mrs Weasley pulled a flowerpot off the kitchen mantelpiece and peered inside.

"We're running low, Arthur," she sighed. "We'll have to buy more today ... ah well, guests first!"

And she offered Harry and Jessica the flowerpot.

Jessica, without hesitation grabbed a pinch of Floo power, but Harry stood and stared at everyone watching them.

"W-what am I supposed to do?" he stammered

"He's never travelled by Floo powder," said Ron suddenly. "Sorry, Harry, I forgot."

"Never? Said Mr Weasley. "But how did you get to Diagon Alley to buy your school things last year?"

"I went on the Underground –"

"Really?" said Mr Weasley eagerly. "Were there _escapators? _How exactly –"

"Not _now_, Arthur," said Mrs Weasley. "Floo powder's a lot quicker, dear, but goodness me, if you've never used it before –"

"He'll be alright, Mum," said Fred, "Harry, watch us first."

He took a pinch of the glittering Floo powder out of the flowerpot, stepped up to the fireplace and threw the powder onto the flames.

With a roar, the fire turned emerald green and rose higher than Fred, who stepped right into it, shouted, "Diagon Alley," and vanished.

"You must speak clearly, dear," Mrs Weasley told Harry as Jessica stepped up to the fireplace and threw in her Floo powder. Mrs Weasley was just giving Harry some more advice as Jessica stepped into the green flame, shouted "Diagon Alley!" and disappeared from view.

She had the familiar sensation of being sucked down a plug hole, spinning through the Floo network until she saw the interior of the Leaky Cauldron and Fred's flaming hair. She stepped out of the fireplace in the dark pub. After quickly brushing the soot off her clothes, she turned to Fred.

"Well hi there," he said.

"Hi yourself, do you –"

Jessica's reply was interrupted by the appearance of George, who appeared out of the fireplace next

"George! I haven't seen you in a lifetime! How are you my friend?" said Fred jokingly.

"I'm well, my friend," replied George in the same tone. "Harry's coming next, let's see if he makes it in one piece."

They waited, but when the next person came through the fireplace, it wasn't Harry. Instead, Ron stepped out of the flames.

"Where's Harry?" he asked as he looked around.

"We might ask you the same question," said Jessica. "George said he was supposed to come through before you."

The flames roared green again and Ginny appeared, asking the same question as her brother had.

"Where's Harry?"

"We don't know, Ginny," said Fred. "He's probably ended up at the wrong fireplace."

The rest of the Weasleys arrived one by one, and all of them asked where Harry was.

"We have to go look for him," said Ginny.

"I hope he turns up," said Mrs Weasley worriedly. "What will happen if we've lost him?"

"Molly, we'll find him," said Mr Weasley. "All we can do right now is go down Diagon Alley and keep our eyes peeled."

Mr Weasley was right, so they all moved into the back alleyway, Mr Weasley tapped the brick with his wand and they all set off along Diagon Alley.

As the huge white marble building of Gringotts loomed ahead, Jessica spotted a head with messy black hair in the crowd, and knew it was Harry. She sprinted up the street towards her twin and as she got closer, she saw that Hermione was with him, as well as Hagrid.

"Harry!" she yelled as she got closer.

Harry's head whipped around and he broke into a huge grin. She almost knocked him over as she hit him full speed and hugged him. The rest of the Weasleys arrived moments behind her.

"Harry," panted Mr Weasley. "We _hoped _you'd only gone one grate too far ..." He mopped his glistening bald patch. "Molly's frantic – she's coming now."

"Where did you come out?" Ron asked.

"Knockturn Alley," said Hagrid grimly.

"_Brilliant!_" said Fred and George together.

"We've never been allowed in," said Ron enviously.

"I should ruddy well think not," growled Hagrid.

Mrs Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly in one hand, Ginny just clinging onto the other.

"Oh, Harry – oh, my dear – you could have been anywhere –"

Gasping for breath she pulled a large clothes brush out of her bag and began sweeping the soot off Harry's clothes. Mrs Weasley took Harry's glasses, gave them a tap of her wand and returned them, good as new.

"Well, gotta be off," said Hagrid, who was having his hand wrung by Mrs Weasley ("Knockturn Alley! If you hadn't found him, Hagrid!"). "See yer at Hogwarts!" and he strode away, head and shoulders taller than everyone on the street.

"Guess who I saw in Borgin and Burkes?" Harry asked Ron, Hermione and Jessica as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Malfoy and his father."

"Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" said Mr Weasley sharply behind them.

"No, he was selling."

"So he's worried," said Mr Weasley with grim satisfaction. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something ..."

"You be careful, Arthur," said Mrs Weasley sharply, as they were ushered into the bank by a bowing goblin at the door. "That family's trouble, don't go biting off more than you can chew."

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" said Mr Weasley indignantly, but he was distracted almost at once by the sight of Hermione's parents, who were standing nervously at the counter that ran all along the great marble hall , waiting for Hermione to introduce them.

"But you're _Muggles_!" said Mr Weasley delightedly. "We must have a drink! What's that you've got there? Oh, you're changing Muggle money. Molly, look!" he pointed excitedly at the ten-pound notes in Mr Granger's hand.

"Meet you back here," Ron said to Hermione, as the Weasleys, Harry and Jessica were led off to their underground vaults by another Gringotts goblin.

The vaults were reached by means of small, goblin-driven carts that sped along miniature train-tracks through the bank's underground tunnels. Jessica enjoyed the trip to the Weasley's vault, but felt terrible once it was opened. There was a small pile of silver Sickles inside, and only one gold Galleon. Mrs Weasley reached right into the corners before sweeping the whole lot into her bag. It was even worse when they reached Harry and Jessica's vault. They tried to block the contents from view as they hastily shoved handfuls into their bags.

Back outside on the marble steps, they separated. Percy muttered vaguely about needing a new quill. Fred and George had spotted their friend from Hogwarts, Lee Jordan. Mrs Weasley and Ginny were going to a second hand robe shop. Mr Weasley was insisting on taking the Grangers to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.

"We'll all meet at Flourish and Blotts in an hour to buy your school books," said Mrs Weasley, setting off with Ginny. "And not one step down Knockturn Ally!" she shouted at the twin's retreating backs.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Jessica strolled off along the winding, cobbled street. The jangling bags of gold silver and bronze jangling cheerfully in Harry and Jessica's pockets were clamouring to be spent, so they bought four large strawberry and peanut butter ice-creams which the four of them slurped happily as they wandered up the alley, examining the fascinating shop windows. Ron stared longingly at a full set of Chudley Canons robes in the windows of Quality Quidditch supplies until Hermione dragged them off to but ink and parchment next door. In Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, they met Fred, George and Lee Jordan, who were stocking upon Dr Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No Heat Fireworks and in a tiny shop full of broken wands, wonky scales and old cloaks covered in potion stains they found Percy, deeply immersed in a small and deeply boring book called _Prefects Who Gained Power_.

"_A study of Hogwarts prefects and their later careers_," Ron read aloud off the back cover. "That sounds _fascinating..._"

"Go away," Percy snapped.

"Course, he's very ambitious, Percy, he's got it all planned out... he wants to be Minister of Magic ..." Ron told the others in an undertone, as they left Percy to it.

An hour later, they headed for Flourish and Blotts. They were by no means the only ones making their way to the bookshop. As they approached it, they saw to their surprise a large crowd jostling outside the door, trying to get in. The reason for this was proclaimed by a large banner stretched across the upper windows.

GILDEROY LOCKHART

Will be signing copies of his autobiography

_MAGICAL ME_

Today 12.30 – 4.30 pm

"We can actually meet him!" Hermione squealed. "I mean, he's written almost the whole booklist!"

Jessica had to admit, she was rather excited too.

The crowd seemed to be made up mostly of witches around Mrs Weasley's age. A harassed-looking wizard was saying, "Calmly, please ladies ... don't push, there ... mind the books, now ..."

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Jessica squeezed inside. A long queue wound right to the back of the shop, where Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his books. They each grabbed a copy of _Break with a Banshee_, and sneaked up the line where the rest of the Weasleys were standing with Mr and Mrs Granger.

"Oh, there you are, good," said Mrs Weasley. She sounded breathless and kept patting her hair. "We'll be able to see him in a minute ..."

Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue which exactly matched his eyes; his pointed hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash.

"Out of the way, there," he snarled at Ron, moving back to get a better shot. "This is for the _Daily Prophet._"

"Big deal," said Ron, rubbing his foot where the photographer had stepped on it.

"Gilderoy Lockhart heard him. He looked up. He saw Ron – and then he saw Harry and Jessica. He stared. Then he leapt to his feet and positively shouted, "It _can't _be Harry and Jessica Potter?"

The crowd parted whispering excitedly. Lockhart dived forward, seized Harry and Jessica's arms and pulled them to the front. The crowd burst into applause. Harry and Jessica's faces burned as Lockhart shook their hands for the photographer, who was clicking away madly, wafting thick smoke over the Weasleys.

"Nice big smiles, you two," said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

When he finally let go of their hands, Harry and Jessica could hardly feel their fingers. They tried to sidle back over to the Weasleys, but Lockhart threw an arm over each of their shoulders and clamped them tightly to his sides.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry and Jessica here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, they not only wanted to buy my autobiography – which I shall be happy to present the m with now, free of charge –" The crowd applauded again. "They had _no idea_," Lockhart continued, giving Harry and Jessica a little shake, causing Harry's glasses to slip down his nose, "that they would soon be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. They and their school fellows will, in fact, be getting the real, magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry and Jessica found themselves presented with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Staggering slightly under their weight, they managed to find their way out of the limelight, Jessica giving her books to Ron on the way. After muttering something about getting her own, she followed Harry to the edge of the room, where Ginny was standing next to her new cauldron.

"You have these," Harry mumbled to her, tipping his books into the cauldron. "I'll buy my own –"

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said a voice Jessica had no trouble recognising. Draco Malfoy had appeared out of the crowd, wearing his usual sneer.

"_Famous _Potter twins," said Malfoy. "Can't even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page."

"Leave them alone, they didn't want all that!" said Ginny. It was the first time she had spoken in front of Harry. She was glaring at Malfoy.

Malfoy spoke only to Harry this time, "Potter, you've got yourself a _girlfriend_!"He drawled. Ginny went scarlet as Ron and Hermione fought their way over, both now had a stack of Lockhart books.

"Oh, it's you," said Ron, looking at Malfoy like he was something unpleasant on the sole of his shoe. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry and Jessica here, eh?"

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley," retorted Malfoy. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for that lot."

Ron went as red as Ginny. He dropped his books into the cauldron too and started towards Malfoy, But Harry, Hermione and Jessica grabbed the back of his jacket.

"Ron!" said Mr Weasley, struggling over with Fred and George. "What are you doing? It's mad in here, let's go outside."

"Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley."

It could only be Mr Malfoy. He stood with his hand on Draco's shoulder, sneering in just the same way.

"Lucius," said Mr Weasley, nodding coldly.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear," said Mr Malfoy. "All those raids ... I hope they're paying you overtime?"

He reached into Ginny's cauldron and extracted, amidst the glossy Lockhart books, an old, battered copy of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration._

"Obviously not," he said. "Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Mr Weasley flushed darker than even Ron or Ginny.

"We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name if wizard, Malfoy," he said.

"Clearly," said Mr Malfoy, his pale eyes shifting towards Mr and Mrs Granger, who were watching apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley... and I thought your family could sink no lower –"

There was a thud of metal as Ginny's cauldron went flying; Mr Weasley had thrown himself at Mr Malfoy, knocking him backwards into a bookshelf. Dozens of heavy spellbooks came thundering down on all their heads; there was a yell of, "Get him, Dad!" from either Fred or George. Mrs Weasley was shrieking, "No, Arthur, no!" The crowd stampeded backwards, knocking over more shelves.

"Gentlemen, please – please!"Cried the assistant and then, louder than all, "Break it up, there, gents, break it up –"

Hagrid was wading towards them through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled Mr Weasley and Mr Malfoy apart. Mr Weasley had a cut lip and Mr Malfoy had been hit in the eye by an _Encyclopaedia of Toadstools. _He was still holding Ginny's old Transfiguration book. He thrust it at her, his eyes glittering with malice.

"Here, girl – take your book – it's the best your father can give you –"

Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip, he beckoned to Draco and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mr Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that. No Malfoy's worth listenin' ter. Bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now – let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it. They hurried up the street, the Grangers shaking with fright and Mrs Weasley beside herself with fury.

"A_ fine _example to set to your children ... _brawling _in public ..._ what _Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought ..."

"He was pleased," said Fred. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He was asking that bloke from the _Daily Prophet _if he'd be able to work the fight into his report – said it was all publicity."

But it was a subdued group who headed back to the fireside in the Leaky Cauldron where Harry, Jessica, the Weasleys and all their shopping would be travelling back to The Burrow by Floo powder. They said goodbye to the Grangers, who were leaving the pub for the Muggle street on the other side. Mr Weasley started to ask how bus stops worked, but stopped quickly at the look on Mrs Weasley's face.

Jessica helped herself to some Floo powder and threw it on the orange flames in the grate. After one last look at the pub, she said her destination and was subdued to the twisting ride that was the Floo network.


	5. The Whomping Willow

**Wildwriter97? Who's that? Oh yeah, it's the author who posted chapter four, saying that chapter five was near and then didn't post it for like three months. I know that this was an unacceptably long time to make you guys wait and I'm really sorry, but I'm sure you don't want to hear my excuses so I'll just give you chapter five.**

**Remember folks, JK Rowling owns Harry Potter, not me.**

**Chapter Five: The Whomping Willow**

The end of the summer holidays came too quickly for Jessica's liking. Of course, going back to Hogwarts would be amazing, she couldn't wait to see Hermione again, but her month with the Weasleys had been the best time she'd had since her birthday. She wasn't looking forward to spending all of next summer at Privet Drive, especially after the way she and Harry had left.

On their last night, Mrs Weasley made them a delicious feast which included everyone's favourite foods. Fred and George ended the evening by letting off a round of fireworks, sending multi-coloured sparks flying around the room for half an hour. After one last mug of hot chocolate, everyone moved up to bed just as the last glittering remains of the fireworks faded.

The next morning, everyone was up at the crack of dawn. Jessica had packed her trunk the night before, but still found herself colliding with people on the stairs as she rushed around the house helping Mrs Weasley collect things that people had left everywhere. The Burrow was in a state of chaos as people scrambled to get out the door in time to reach the Hogwarts Express. Jessica wasn't sure how they would fit all the Weasleys, everyone's trunks and the Potter twins in the small Ford Anglia, but Mr Weasley assured her that there was plenty of room. When Jessica and Harry asked him how, he winked and showed them the extended interior of the car. "Magic," he said.

Once everyone had gotten into the car, Mrs Weasley looked into the back seat where Jessica, Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Percy were comfortably seated.

"Muggles must be _much _more resourceful than we give them credit for," she said as she and Ginny slid into the passenger seat, which had been magically stretched to cater for the two of them. "You'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

The car rumbled to life as Jessica looked back sadly at The Burrow. She wondered how long it would be before she would see it again when they were back: George had forgotten his fireworks. They finally seemed set to leave when Fred ran back in for his broomstick. Every time they were about to leave, someone had to go back for something, and Jessica was wondering if they would ever get to King's Cross. By the time they finally set off for the last time they were running incredibly late.

Throughout the journey, Mr Weasley kept glancing at the time, then the sky, then his wife.

"No, Arthur," said Mrs Weasley. "You are not flying this car to King's Cross."

"But Molly, no one would see us. I installed this button that'll turn the car invisible we'll get there in no time."

"No."

They reached King's Cross at quarter to eleven. After scrambling to grab trolleys, they all dashed towards the barrier between Platforms nine and ten. When they finally reached it, a large clock was showing them that they only had five minutes to get on the train. Mrs Weasley ushered Ginny in first. When they had disappeared through the barrier, Percy, Fred, George and Mr Weasley followed. Only Jessica, Harry and Ron were left.

"See you on the other side," said Jessica as she moved towards the barrier. With a final look at Ron and Harry, she pushed her trolley against the barrier. _But it wouldn't move._

"You alright, Jess?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, just need a run-up," said Jessica, backing up her trolley. She glanced at the clock. One minute to go. She took a deep breath and sprinted towards the magical barrier. With a loud crunch and a disgruntled meow from Truffles, the trolley stopped against the barrier. A knock from Harry confirmed that the wall was, indeed, solid.

"It's gone," said Ron. "The train's left. It's eleven o'clock."

"Well, what now?" asked Harry with a look of dismay. They couldn't stay where they were; people were beginning to stare at them as both Hedwig and Truffles were being quite loud.

"We should just go wait for your parents at the car –"

"Jess, you're a genius! We can fly the car to Hogwarts!" said Ron, already jogging back towards the car park.

Panting, Jessica caught up with Harry and Ron next to the car, where they were already putting their trunks into the boot.

"Are you even sure this is _legal_?" hissed Jessica as she came up behind them.

"Yeah, underage wizards can use magic in emergencies," said Ron. "Besides, do you have any better ideas?"

He took Jessica's shocked expression as an agreement and helped Harry lift Jessica's trunk into the car.

"But Ron," said Jessica, "What will happen when your parents come out?" This statement seemed to make Ron more eager to get their things safely into the car. He almost dropped Hedwig when she screeched a loud protest to being put with the trunks.

"Jess, you sit in the back and look after Hedwig and truffles," said Harry giving her the two cages. "Ron and I can go in the front."

Moaning and protesting under her breath, Jessica finally gave in and slid onto the elongated back seat. Now that she was the only one there, she could lie across the car, with Hedwig and Truffles safely tucked in the foot space below the seat.

"Check no one's watching," said Ron from the driver's seat, fiddling with the keys.

"All clear," Harry replied when a sudden panic hit Jessica.

"Can you even drive this, Ron?"

"Yeah, I mean – probably. It doesn't look too hard..."

The car rumbled to life and Ron punched the silver invisibility button on the dashboard. The car and everything in it suddenly vanished. Jessica could still feel the rumble of the car's engine, and heard Ron's tense breathing from the driver's seat, but as far as she could see, she could be lying in mid-air rather than on a perfectly solid car-seat.

"Let's go, then," said Harry's voice from in front of her.

Slowly, the buildings and streets fell away, and soft white clouds took their place. Looking down, Jessica could see the winding streets of London below them. Suddenly, with a loud pop, the car became visible and Ron swerved above the clouds to avoid being seen.

"Go back!" yelled Harry. "We have to see where train's going."

"Scotland," said Jessica sarcastically, but pointed the boys in the right direction as they briefly dipped under the clouds. They decided to do this every twenty minutes to keep track of the Hogwarts Express.

Before long, the gentle swaying of the car made Jessica drift into sleep.

_She dreamt that she was playing Quidditch. The stands were crowded with cheering spectators eager to see Gryffindor win. They were facing Slytherin, and Jessica was determined to find the Snitch and get the game finished quickly. She heard the cheers of the Slytherin team as they scored goal after goal, and desperately searched for the Snitch as the score reached 70-0. Jessica turned to tell Wood to stop letting the Quaffle in, but gasped when she saw that he wasn't beside the goal posts. In fact, she couldn't see any players wearing the scarlet of Gryffindor. Abandoning her search for the Snitch, Jessica dived and intercepted a pass between two Slytherin players and sped to the other end of the pitch. Dodging both Bludgers and several Slytherin players, she hurled the Quaffle towards the left goalpost. As it sailed through the hoop, her inside did a flip. She had scored a goal. But this excitement was short-lived as an ear-splitting explosion of cheers erupted from the Slytherins, and as Jessica looked up, she saw the Golden Snitch glinting in the Slytherin Seeker's hand._

"_Potter!" called a hard, angry voice. Jessica flew up to meet a steaming red Oliver Wood. "What was that? You call that Quidditch? We lost 220 points to 10! A house elf could have scored more goals than that! A hinkypunk could've found the Snitch faster! You do not deserve a place on this team, Jessica. Now get off my pitch."_

_Wood snatched Jessica's boom away from underneath her and she found herself falling. She could see the ground coming closer and closer she braced for impact..._

With a gasp, Jessica sat bolt upright. It was dark now, and it took a few seconds for her to register what was happening around her. She could no longer feel the calming vibration of the car's engine. Instead, they were plummeting towards Hogwarts castle, which was just ahead of them.

"Ron," she yelled. "Make it go!"

"Wow Jessica. That's a great idea, I wonder why I didn't think of it!" replied Ron sarcastically as he frantically turned the wheel. He let go of it entirely as they skimmed over the greenhouses and narrowly avoided the castle wall.

"MIND THAT TREE!" yelled Harry, reaching for the steering wheel just seconds too late as – CRUNCH

With an almighty bang of metal on wood, the Ford Anglia collided with the trunk of a huge tree and fell to the ground with a jolt. Jessica, as she had been lying down, was not wearing a seatbelt and had slammed into the back of Harry's seat as a pain shot up her arm when it was thrown up to protect her head. Steam was billowing out of the car's engine. Hedwig and Truffles were howling and screeching in the corner. Ron let out a moan.

"You two alright?" asked Harry.

"My wand," said Ron. "Look at my wand." His wand had almost completely snapped in two. The tip was limply dangling from a few splinters.

"What about you, Jess?"

"Yeah, but my arm..."

The car jolted as something hit it from the side.

"What the bloody hell was that?" yelled Ron as the car was hit heavily again on its roof.

Harry gasped, looking through the windscreen. Following his gaze, Jessica saw _exactly _what was hitting them. It was the tree itself. Its branches were flying around, pummelling the car from all angles. Ron screamed as a branch dented his door. The windscreen was beginning to concave from the blows. The roof had begun to bend ominously.

"Run for it!" said Ron, throwing his full weight against the door but was knocked back into Harry's lap by a vicious swipe from another branch.

"We're done for!" he said as the roof sagged, but suddenly, the car began to vibrate – the engine had restarted!

"_REVERSE!" _Harry shouted and the car shot backwards. The tree continued to slash at them. The roots groaned as it almost pulled itself out of the earth trying to reach the speeding car.

"That was close," panted Ron, patting the dashboard. "Good car."

The car, however, seemed to have other ideas. With small clunks, the four doors flew open and Jessica felt her seat tipping to the side. Next thing she knew, she was on the damp grass next to Harry. Loud thunks signalled that their trunks had been ejected from the boot of the car. Hedwig and Truffle's cages flew through the air, being caught by Harry and Jessica. Then, dented, deformed and steaming, the car rumbled away into the night.

"Come back!" Ron yelled, brandishing his broken wand. "Dad's gonna kill me!"

But with one final snort from the exhaust, the car disappeared from view.

"Can you believe it?" said Ron miserably. "Of all the trees we could hit, we had to get the one that hits back."

He glanced back at the tree, which was still flailing its branches viciously.

"Come on then," said Harry. "We'd better get inside."

So, cold, bruised and aching, the three of them grabbed their trunks and began lugging them up the grassy slope towards the grand oak doors of the castle.

"I think the feast's already started," said Ron, dropping his trunk at the entryway and crossing over to peer through a window. "Hey, come and look – it's the sorting!"

Harry and Jessica hurried over to the window. The Great Hall looked as magnificent as it had last year. Bright candles hovered over the four long house tables, making the gold plates and goblets shine. The enchanted ceiling, mirroring the sky outside, shone with twinkling stars.

Through the crowd of the Pointed Hogwarts hats, Jessica could see a line of terrified first years filing into the hall. She could see Ginny near the back, her flaming red hair distinguishing her as a Weasley. Meanwhile, Professor McGonagall was placing the famous Sorting Hat on a stool before the first-years.

Every year, this dirty old patchy hat sorted new Hogwarts students into one of the four houses. Jessica remembered her own sorting; how terrified she'd been as she sat on the stool, the moment the hat touched her head as she felt her whole mind open to it, how she had taken so long to sort, she and Harry were both nearly sorted into Slytherin and Jessica herself had given the Sorting Hat quite a dilemma trying to decide between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Eventually though, both twins had been sorted into Gryffindor and had snatched the house cup from Slytherin's seven-year winning streak.

A small, mousy-haired boy stepped up to the Sorting Hat, and Jessica waited eagerly to see which house would welcome him in.

"Hang on," Harry muttered. "There's an empty seat at the staff table ... where's Snape?"

Jessica inspected the staff table, seeing many teachers, but no Snape.

"Maybe he's ill," said Ron hopefully.

"Maybe he's _left_," said Harry, "because he missed out on the Defence Against Dark Arts job _again!_"

"I really doubt that," said Jessica. "I reckon he's out looking for–"

"He might've been _sacked!" _said Ron enthusiastically. "I mean, everyone hates him –"

"Or maybe," said a cold voice behind them, "he's waiting to hear why you three didn't arrive on the school train."

All three of them spun around. Standing behind them, his black cloak rippling ominously in the breeze, was Professor Severus Snape.

"Follow me," he said.

Not daring to look at each other, Harry, Ron and Jessica followed Snape up the steps into the vast entrance hall. The delicious smell of the Hogwarts feast wafted from the Great Hall, but Snape led them away from the warmth and light down a small staircase towards the cold dark dungeons.

"In!" he said, opening a door halfway down the passageway and pointing.

They entered Snape's office, shivering. The fireplace was dark and empty. The dark walls were lined with shelves of large glass jars. Jessica didn't recognise any of the substances floating in them, but they all looked absolutely revolting. Snape closed the door and turned to look at them.

"So," he said softly, "the train isn't good enough for the famous Potters and their faithful sidekick Weasley. Wanted to arrive with a _bang_, did we?"

"No sir, it was the barrier at King's Cross, it –"

"Silence!" said Snape coldly. "What have you done with the car?"

Ron gulped. This wasn't the first time Snape had given Jessica the impression he could read minds. But a moment later, he unrolled today's issue of the _Evening Prophet_.

"You were seen," showing them the headline: FLYING CAR MYSTIFIES MUGGLES_. _He began t read aloud. "Two Muggles in London, convinced they saw an old car flying over the Post Office tower ... at noon in Norfolk, Mrs Hetty Bayliss, while hanging out her washing ... Mr Angus Fleet, of Peebles, reported to police ... six or seven Muggles in all. I believe _your _father works in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office?" he said, looking at Ron and smiling still more nastily. "Dear, dear... his own son..."

Jessica felt as though she had been hit in the stomach with one of the larger branches from the mad tree. If anyone found out Mr Weasley had bewitched the car... they hadn't thought about that...

"I noticed, in my search of the park, that considerable damage seems to have been done to a very valuable Whomping Willow," Snape continued.

"That tree did more damage to _us_ than we –"

"_Silence!_" snapped Snape again.

"But sir, Jessica's arm could be broken because of that tree!" said Harry.

Snape looked at Jessica for the first time. "Is this true?" he asked. Jessica nodded and he flicked his wand. The pain in her arm instantly vanished. "It wasn't broken," Snape sneered to Harry.

Now, most unfortunately, you are not in my House and the decision to expel you does not rest with me. I shall fetch the people who _do_ have that happy power. You will wait here."

"I _told _you taking the car was a bad idea!" said Jessica as the door swung shut behind Snape. "If we had waited for your parents to come back, Ron, we wouldn't be in this situation."

Harry and Ron had turned positively green, and it wasn't from the disgusting _things _floating in the jars around them; Gryffindor's head of House, Professor McGonagall, although fairer than Snape, was extremely strict. They waited in silence until Snape returned ten minutes later with Professor McGonagall. She raised her wand the moment she entered and flames erupted in the fireplace.

"Sit," she said and Harry, Jessica and Ron backed into chairs beside the fire.

"Explain," she said, her glasses glinting ominously.

Ron launched into the story, starting with the barrier at the station refusing to let them through.

"... so we had no choice, Professor, we couldn't get on the train."

"Why couldn't you send a letter by owl? I believe _you_ have an owl," Professor McGonagall said coldly to Harry.

Jessica mentally slapped herself. How did she not think of this herself?

"It is very disappointing that none of the three of you thought of this."

There was a knock on the door and Snape, now looking happier than ever, opened it. There stood Professor Dumbledore.

Jessica's body went numb. Dumbledore was looking unusually grave. He stared down his crooked nose at them and the look in his eyes made Jessica feel so bad she almost wished that they were still being beaten by the Whomping Willow.

There was a long silence. Then Dumbledore said, "Please explain why you did this."

It would have been better if he had shouted. Jessica heard the disappointment in his voice. Harry began stammering their story to him, looking at the floor the whole time. He didn't mention that the car had belonged to Mr Weasley, making it sound like they had simply found a flying car outside the station, but Jessica knew Dumbledore saw through this instantly. When Harry had finished, Dumbledore stared at them through his spectacles.

"We'll go get our stuff," said Ron in a hopeless voice.

"What are you talking about, Weasley?" barked Professor McGonagall.

"Well, you're expelling us, aren't you?" said Ron.

"Not today, Mr Weasley," said Dumbledore. "But I must impress upon the three of you the seriousness of what you have done. I will be writing to your families tonight. I must warn you that if you do anything like this again, I will have no choice but to expel you."

Snape looked as though Christmas had been cancelled. He cleared his throat and said, "Professor Dumbledore, these three have flouted the Decree for the Restriction of Under-age Wizardry, caused serious damage to an old and valuable tree... surely acts of this nature..."

"It will be for Professor McGonagall to decide on their punishments, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. 'They are in her House and are therefore her responsibility." He turned to Professor McGonagall. "I must go back to the feast, Minerva, I've got to give out a few notices. Come, Severus, there's a delicious-looking custard tart I want to sample."

Snape shot a look of pure venom in their direction as he allowed himself to be swept out of his office, leaving them alone with Professor McGonagall, who was eyeing them still like a wrathful eagle

"You'd better get to the hospital wing, Weasley, you're bleeding."

"Not much," said Ron, hastily wiping the cut over his eye with his sleeve. "Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being sorted –"

"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor McGonagall. "Your sister is also in Gryffindor."

"Oh, good," said Ron.

"And speaking of Gryffindor –" Professor McGonagall said sharply, but Harry cut in: "Professor, when we took the car, term hadn't started, so – so Gryffindor shouldn't really have to lose points, should it?"

Professor McGonagall gave him a piercing look, but Jessica was sure she had almost smiled. Her mouth looked less thin, anyway. "I will not take any points from Gryffindor," she said, "but you will all get a detention."

It was better than Jessica had expected. As for Dumbledore writing to the Dursleys, that didn't matter. Jessica knew perfectly well that they'd just be disappointed the Whomping Willow hadn't squashed them flat.

Professor McGonagall raised her wand again and pointed it at Snape's desk. A large plate of sandwiches, three silver goblets and a jug of iced pumpkin juice appeared with a pop.

"You will eat in here and then go straight to your dormitories," she said. "I must also return to the feast."

When the door had closed behind her, Ron let out a long, low whistle.

"I thought we'd had it," he said, grabbing a sandwich.

"So did I," said Harry, taking one too.

"I can't believe you two," said Jessica. "We got seen by Muggles, almost killed by a tree and almost expelled, but all you can do it relax and eat your sandwiches."

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Yes, I'm hungry, but that's not the point –"

"Relax, Jessica," said Harry. "Have a sandwich, drink some pumpkin juice. There's nothing we can do now."

Reluctantly, Jessica accepted the food and drink. Finally, when they had all eaten as many sandwiches as they could (the plate had re-filled itself), they left Snape's office and walked the familiar path to Gryffindor tower. The castle was quiet: the feast must have ended. They walked past the muttering portraits and creaking suits of armour, and up staircases until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Password?" she asked as they approached.

None of them knew the password, of course, but almost immediately help arrived. Hermione came rushing towards them.

"_There _you are! Where have you _been_? The most _ridiculous_ rumours – someone said you'd been expelled for crashing a flying car."

"Well, we haven't been expelled," Harry assured her.

"You're telling me you _did _fly here?" said Hermione, sounding almost as severe as Professor McGonagall.

"Skip the lecture," said Ron impatiently, "and tell us the new password."

"Wattlebird," said Hermione. "But that's not the point –"

Her words were cut short as the portrait swung open, and a round of applause erupted from the Gryffindors inside. It looked as though the whole house was awake, packed into the common room. Arms reached through the portrait hole to pull Harry, Ron and Jessica inside, leaving Hermione to scramble in after them.

"Brilliant!" yelled Lee Jordan. "Inspired! What an entrance! Flying a car into the Whomping Willow, people'll be talking about that for years!"

"Good on you," said a fifth year Jessica had never met; people were congratulating her as if she'd just won a marathon. Fred and George pushed their way to the front of the crowd and said together, "Why couldn't you have called us back, eh?"

Ron's face had turned scarlet as he grinned, but Jessica had spotted someone (apart from Hermione) who wasn't happy. Percy's head emerged over the crowd as he tried to get close enough to tell them off.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Car flying sure makes you tired, goodnight." She said as she made her way towards the girl's dormitories. She was hoping to be asleep before Hermione ended up coming to could question her about the car, but alas, no sooner than Jessica had slid into her bed, Hermione appeared in the doorway demanding answers. It was many hours before Hermione's tirade of questions ended, and Jessica couldn't help feeling glad she had at least convinced Hermione that it wasn't her fault that she ended up arriving at Hogwarts in a flying car. A weigh, albeit small, off her shoulders, Jessica went to sleep with a smile on her face.


	6. Gilderoy Lockhart

**Merry (late) Christmas! Hope everyone had a great Christmas and had/are having, depending on your time zone, a happy New Year! Here's another chapter to take you into 2013.**

**Harry Potter is, and never will be owned by me.**

**Chapter 6**

**Gilderoy Lockhart**

The next morning, Jessica caught up with Ron and Harry in the common room. They'd had a much nicer sleep, but were nervous to hear that Hermione hadn't forgiven them for last night. They made their way down to the Great Hall where the four house tables were filled with tureens of porridge, piles of toast and dishes of eggs and bacon. The ceiling reflected the dull, cloudy day outside. Harry, Ron and Jessica sat down next to Hermione, her copy of _Voyages with Vampires_ propped up against a milk jug beside her. "Morning," she said stiffly, then returned to her reading.

At that moment, Neville Longbottom arrived and greeted them cheerfully as he took a seat beside Ron. "Post should arrive any minute," he said. "I think Gran's sending on a few things I forgot."

Jessica was just biting down on a piece of toast when, sure enough, there was a rustling overhead and hundreds of owl s streamed in, circling the hall and dropping letters and packages in to the crowd. A large, lumpy parcel bounced off Neville's head, and a second later, something large and grey landed in Hermione's jug, spraying them all with milk and feathers.

"_Errol!_" gasped Ron, pulling the bedraggled owl by the feet. Errol slumped, unconscious, onto the table, his legs in the air and a damp red envelope in his mouth. Jessica gasped. She should have expected it, but there was no doubt about it: the owl had brought Ron a Howler.

"Oh no," said Ron.

"It's alright, he's still breathing," said Hermione.

"It's not that – it's _that_."

Ron was pointing at the Howler. Jessica had never gotten one herself, but she knew that Ron would be in deeper trouble if he didn't open it.

"Open it, Ron."

"I'm sorry, what is it?" asked Harry.

"She's – she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.

"A what?"

"A Howler," said Jessica. "Oh, you'll find out in a minute."

"It'll be worse if you don't open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "I got one from Gran once and I ignored it, and –" he gulped. "- it was horrible."

The Howler had begun to smoke at the edges.

"Come on Ron," said Jessica. "Open it. It'll be over in a few minutes."

Ron, hands shaking, reached out and eased the Howler from Errol's beak and slit it open. Jessica had just enough time to cover her ears before the sound of Mrs Weasley's yells, a hundred times louder than usual echoed around the hall.

"...STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK ABOUT WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT HAD GONE..."

Jessica couldn't help but smirking. _She'd_ thought about Mr and Mrs Weasley before they had taken the car. All along the tables, cutlery and plates were vibrating. Everyone in the hall had fallen silent and turned to look at Ron who was sinking so low in his seat that only his crimson forehead was in sight.

"...LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU COULD HAVE DIED, HARRY AND JESSICA TOO..."

Jessica looked over to Harry, she'd been wondering when their names would come up. Harry looked as though he was trying to pretend that he couldn't hear anything at all, but he was beginning to turn a little red.

"...ABSOLUTELY DISCUSTED, YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK AND IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

A silence over the Great Hall. The sound of the Howler had left a ringing in Jessica's ears, and as it faded, people slowly picked back their conversations as though nothing had happened. The Howler, which had dropped from Ron's hand, burst into flames and curled into ashes. Hermione closed _Voyages with Vampires_ and looked down at the top of Ron's head.

"Well, I don't know what you expected, Ron but you–"

"Don't tell me I deserved it," Ron snapped.

Jessica put down her half-eaten breakfast. Guilt was eating her inside. Mr Weasley was facing an inquiry at work, and Jessica felt responsible for it. She'd given Ron the idea to take the car and hadn't been able to stop them when Harry and Ron dragged her along.

But there was no time to dwell on this; Professor McGonagall was moving along the Gryffindor table, handing out timetables. As Jessica took hers, she saw that they had Herbology first, with the Hufflepuffs.

Harry, Ron, Jessica and Hermione left the castle together and made their way across the vegetable patch to the greenhouses. It seemed that Hermione had decided that the Howler was punishment enough, and had forgiven Harry, Ron and Jessica as they chatted happily while they waited for Professor Sprout.

Barely a minute after they'd arrived, Professor Sprout appeared, accompanied by Gilderoy Lockhart. Professor Sprout was carrying bandages, and Jessica felt another twinge of guilt as she saw many branches of the Whomping Willow in slings.

"Oh hello there!" called Lockhart, beaming at the assembled students. "Just been showing Professor Sprout the proper way to doctor a Whomping Willow! But I don't want you running around with the idea that I'm better at Herbology than she is! I just happen to have met several of these exotic plants on my travels..."

"Greenhouse Three today, chaps!" said Professor Sprout, who was looking distinctly disgruntled and not her usual cheery self.

There was a murmur of interest. They had only ever worked in Greenhouse One before – Greenhouse Three housed much more interesting and dangerous plants. Professor Sprout took a large key from her belt and unlocked the door. Jessica caught the smell of dirt and fertiliser, and the perfume from large, bright flowers dangling from the roof. She was about to enter when Lockhart's hand shot out.

"Harry, Jessica! I've been wanting a word – you don't mind if they're a couple of minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?"

Judging by Professor Sprout's scowl, she did mind, but Lockhart said, "That's the ticket," and closed the greenhouse door in her face.

"You two," said Lockhart, his large white teeth gleaming in the sunlight as he shook his head. "My, my, my."

A little confused, Jessica stayed silent.

"When I heard – well of course, it was all my fault. Could have kicked myself."

"I'm sorry – er – Professor, but what's your fault?" asked Jessica.

"Jessica, Jessica, Jessica," sighed Lockhart. "You _flew a car to Hogwarts_! I don't know when I've been more shocked. Of course, I knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile."

It was remarkable how he could show off every one of his magnificent white teeth, even when he wasn't talking.

"Gave you both a taste for publicity, didn't I?" said Lockhart. "Gave you the_ bug_. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again."

Jessica looked to Harry in shock. Did Lockhart really think that?

"Oh – no, professor," said Harry. "In fact we –"

"Harry, Harry, Harry," said Lockhart, reaching out and grasping Harry's shoulder. "_I understand. _ Natural to want a bit more after you've had that first taste – and I blame myself for giving you both that, bound to go to your heads – but see here, you can't start _flying cars _to get yourselves noticed. Plenty of time for that when you're older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking, 'It's alright for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I'd say I was even _more _of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He Who Must Not Be Named!" He glanced at the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, and Jessica nervously traced the scar on her neck. "I know, it's not quite as good as winning _Witch Weekly's_ Most-Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have – but it's a start."

He gave Harry and Jessica a hearty wink and strode off. Both of them stood stunned for a few seconds, before they remembered that they were supposed to be inside the greenhouse, Harry held the door open and they both slid inside.

Professor Sprout was standing behind a behind a bench in the centre of the greenhouse. About twenty pairs of different coloured earmuffs were lying on it. When Harry and Jessica took their places beside Ron and Hermione, she said, "We'll be re-potting Mandrakes today. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?"

To no one's surprise, Hermione's was the first hand in the air.

"Mandrake, or Mandragora is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed into their original state."

"Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor," said Professor Sprout. "The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?"

This time, it was Jessica's hand that beat Hermione's.

"The cry of an adult Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it."

"Precisely. Another ten points," said Professor Sprout. "Now the Mandrakes we have here are still very young."

She pointed to a row of deep trays as she spoke and everyone shuffled forward for a better look. A hundred or so tufty little plants, purplish green in colour, were growing in rows.

"Everyone take a pair of earmuffs," said Professor Sprout.

There was a scramble as everyone tried to get a colour they liked. Jessica let out a giggle as she saw that Ron had ended up with a pair that was pink and fluffy, so she traded them for the green ones she had.

"When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are _completely _covered," said Professor Sprout. "When it is safe to remove them, I will give the thumbs up. Right – earmuffs _on._"

Jessica slipped the earmuffs over her ears. They blocked out all sound entirely. Professor Sprout put on a pair of her own, rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

As the mandrake came out of the pot, Jessica sensed many people gasp, but couldn't hear them. Instead of roots, there was a very ugly baby with green skin. The leaves grew right out of its head. Jessica was glad for the earmuffs, the mandrake was screaming at the top of its lungs.

Professor Sprout took a large pot from under the table and plunged the mandrake into it, burying it in dark, damp compost until only the leaves were visible. Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs up and removed her earmuffs.

"As our mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won't kill yet," she said calmly. "However, they _will _knock you out for several hours, and as I'm sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray – there is a large supply of pots here – compost in the sacks over there – and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it's teething."

She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long tentacles that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

Harry, Ron Hermione and Jessica picked a tray and began setting up their pots for the mandrakes.

"So what did Lockhart want, then?" asked Ron.

"He said that it was _all _his fault that we flew a car into the Whomping Willow, because we wanted to be on the front page again after we were with him. And that's not what we should be doing at this stage in our life in the public eye. Load of nonsense if you ask me," said Harry.

"Harry, he was only trying to help. I'm sure he wouldn't have said that if we didn't need to hear it. And besides, he's right about it being a bad idea to fly that car."

After that, they didn't have a chance to talk. They all put on their earmuffs and began re-potting the Mandrakes. It was much harder than Jessica expected, because the Mandrakes didn't want to come out of their pots nor did they want to go into the new ones. They would kick, wriggle, bite and swing their sharp little fists. Jessica spent a lot of the lesson trying to push a particularly fat one into the pot, and by the time they had to pack up, she, like the whole class, was sweaty, aching and covered in dirt. They went back to the castle to wash up, and then the Gryffindors hurried to Transfiguration.

Professor McGonagall's classes were always hard work, but today Jessica was finding it especially difficult. They were supposed to turn beetles to buttons, but most of what she'd learnt last year last leaked out of her brain over summer and it took a while before she had a button sitting on her desk. After the first one through, she found it easier and between them, she and Hermione had a small collection of buttons. The same couldn't be said for Ron and Harry, though. Harry had only managed to give his beetle a lot of exercise as he chased it around the desk with his wand, and Ron had tried to mend his wand with Spellotape, but it kept backfiring at random times and would engulf Ron in a grey cloud of smoke that smelt like rotten eggs. Unable to see, he'd squashed his beetle with his elbow and had to ask a disapproving Professor McGonagall for a new one.

When the lunch bell went, Hermione and Jessica gathered up their buttons and made their way to the Great Hall. After a few minutes, they joined by Harry and Ron, who looked very jealous of the pile of buttons Jessica and Hermione had accumulated during Transfiguration.

"So what have we got after lunch?" asked Harry hastily.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," said Hermione at once.

"_Why,_" said Ron, seizing her timetable, "have you outlined all Lockhart's lessons in little hearts?"

Hermione snatched the timetable back, blushing furiously.

They finished lunch and moved out into the overcast courtyard. Hermione sat down on a stone step and buried her nose in voyages with Vampires, while Jessica sat beside her reading _Year with the Yeti. _Harry and Ron were talking about Quidditch. Several minutes later, Jessica glanced up from her book to see a short, first year Gryffindor with a muggle camera talking animatedly to Harry.

"Wow! Is that your sister?" he asked, noticing Jessica.

"Yes, I'm his sister," said Jessica. "But who are you?"

"I'm Colin Creevy. I was sorted into Gryffindor, too. I can't believe I'm meeting you two – I can't believe any of this; I didn't know that all the strange things I could do was magic! My Dad was surprised too – he's a milkman, he won't believe the things that can happen, so I'm taking pictures of everything so I can show him! And a boy in my dormitory says that if you develop the pictures in a certain potion, they'll _move_! So could I get a picture with the two of you? Your friend here can take it."

It took Jessica a moment to process everything that had been said. "Uh, sure."

Colin handed the camera to Ron and jumped between Jessica and Harry, pulling a toothy grin.

"The button on the top, Ron." Said Jessica as she pulled a weak smile,

After Ron took the picture, Jessica settled back to her book. She didn't get to read for long though, as Colin asked them to sign the picture and a mocking voice echoed around the courtyard.

"_Signed photos?_ You're giving out _signed photos_, Potter?"

Jessica was thankful to be hiding behind her book as Draco Malfoy approached, flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Everyone queue up!" Malfoy sneered. "Potter's handing out signed photos!"

"No, I'm not," said Harry angrily. "Shut up Malfoy."

"You're just jealous," piped up Colin, whose entire body was about as thick as Crabbe's head.

"_Jealous?_" said Malfoy, who no longer had to shout because almost the whole courtyard was listening. "Of what? I don't want a fowl scar across my head, thanks. I don't think getting your head makes you special, myself."

Crabbe and Goyle were snickering stupidly.

"That's your problem, Malfoy," said Jessica, standing up to face him. "Because I don't think that's true. Having a scar like that on your forehead _does _make you special. Harry has that scar for a reason."

"Oh look who it is," jeered Malfoy. "It's the other one. What makes you so important, then? I don't see an awful scar across _your _face. Oh, that's right, I forgot, you're the Girl Who Will Never Be."

"You'll pay for that, Malfoy," snarled Harry, fists clenching. "One more word..."

"I wouldn't if I were you, Potter," said Malfoy. "Don't want any more scars on that face, do we?"

"Eat slugs, Malfoy!" said Ron angrily.

"Mind your mouth, Weasley," Malfoy put on a high voice, "_if you put another toe out of line_ –"

A group of Slytherin fifth years nearby laughed loudly.

"You should give Weasley a signed photo, Potter. It'll be worth more than his house."

Ron whipped out his Spellotaped wand, but Hermione closed _Voyages with Vampires _with a snap and whispered, "Look out!"

At that moment, Gilderoy Lockhart approached them, his cloak billowing as he walked.

"Who's handing out signed photos?" Then he spotted Harry. "Harry Potter, shouldn't have asked. Here take one of us together and we'll both sign it." He pulled Harry, who was now turning bright red, to his side and Colin was furiously snapping photos of them. When Lockhart seemed satisfied that Colin had taken enough pictures, he strode off, talking animatedly to Harry, who he was dragging with him. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle left Jessica, Ron and Hermione as they became bored.

"That's it," said Jessica. "I'm going to start tying my hair up."

"What are you on about, Jess?"

"Did you hear Malfoy? People think I'm not as good as Harry because they can see his scar and not mine. Even Lockhart didn't think to get me for that photo, and I was right here. You don't think that though, do you guys?"

"Course not. Are you mad?" said Ron. "I mean, the real proof is in the scar and we haven't seen yours, but I believe it's there."

Just then, the bell rang and they set off to the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. When they arrived, they found Harry hiding behind his pile of Lockhart books at the very back of the room. They all sat in a group.

"You could've fried an egg on your face," said Ron. "You'd better hope Colin doesn't meet, they'd start a Potter fan club."

"Oh god, then they'll start calling themselves Potterheads or something," joked Jessica.

When the whole class was seated, Lockhart cleared his throat loudly and silence fell. He picked up Neville's copy of _Travels with Trolls_ and held it up to show his winking portrait on the front.

"Me," he said, pointing to it and winking as well, "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, third class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five time winner of _Witch Weekly's _Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling _at her!" He waited for them to laugh. A few people smiled weakly.

"I see you've all bought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we'd start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about – just to check that you've read them, how much you've taken in..."

He handed out the papers then returned to the front of the class and said, "You have thirty minutes. Start _now_!"

Jessica looked at her quiz and was glad to see questions she knew the answers to.

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?_

_What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?_

_What, in your opinion is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_

It went on over three sheets of paper, right down to:

_54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?_

Half an hour later, Lockhart collected the papers in and rifled through them in the front of the class.

"Tut, tut – hardly any of you remembered that my favourite colour is lilac. I say so in _Year with the Yeti. _ And a few of you need to read _Wanderings with Werewolves _more carefully. I clearly state in chapter twelve that my ideal birthday present would be harmony between all magic and non-magic peoples – though I wouldn't say no to some Ogden's Old Firewhiskey!"

Jessica rolled her eyes. Of course the hardest question was in the one book she _hadn't _read.

"... but Miss Hermione Granger knew that my ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions – good girl! In fact –" he flipped her paper over, "full marks! Where is Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised a trembling hand.

"Excellent!" beamed Lockhart. "Take ten points for Gryffindor! And so, to business..."

He bent down below his desk and lifted a covered cage onto it.

"Now – be warned! It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind! You may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this room. Know only that no harm can come to you whilst I am here. All I ask is that you remain calm. I must ask you not to scream, you might provoke them."

As the whole class held its breath, Lockhart whipped off the cover.

"Yes," he said dramatically. "_Freshly caught Cornish Pixies."_

Seamus Finnigan couldn't control himself. He let out a snort of laughter.

"Yes?" Lockhart smiled at him.

"Well, they're not – they're not very – _dangerous, _are they?" Seamus choked.

"Don't be so sure!" said Lockhart, waggling a finger at Seamus. "Devilish tricky little blighters they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a bunch of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocking around, rattling the bars and pulling bizarre faces at the people nearest them

"Right then," said Lockhart loudly. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like little blue rockets. Two of them seized Neville by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, upended the waste bin, grabbed bags and books and threw them out the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and Neville was swinging from the candelabra in the ceiling.

"Come on now, round them up, round them up, they're only pixies..." Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand and bellowed, "_Peskipiksi Pesternomi!"_

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized Lockhart's wand and threw it out the window too. Lockhart gulped and ducked under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by Neville, who fell a second later as the candelabra gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush for the door. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Ron, Hermione and Jessica, who were almost at the exit, and said, "Well, I'll just ask you four to nip the rest back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you believe him?" roared Ron, as one of the remaining pixies bit him painfully on the ear.

"He just wants to give us a hands-on experience," said Hermione, immobilising two pixies at once and stuffing them back into their cage.

"_Hands-on?_" said Harry, who was trying to grab a pixie dancing just out of his reach with its tongue out. "Hermione, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."

"What do you mean?" said Jessica as she froze the pixie Harry was trying to catch and it fell into his hand. "You read his books. Can't you see all the things he's done?"

"He _says _he's done," Ron muttered.


	7. Mudbloods and Murmurs

**Hey there, readers! First of all, there are four reasons I haven't given you a chapter in ages: I went back to school and my teachers decided to all pile on the homework at once (starting the four Cambridge classes that my school offers may have something to do with it), I discovered a great show called Doctor Who and have been **_**devouring **_**all the episodes (I like nine, personally), I got myself a Tumblr (enough said), and I'm just a chronic procrastinator. Sorry about that.**

**Harry Potter's still owned by JK Rowling, not me.**

**Chapter Seven**

**Mudbloods and Murmurs**

The second day of term, Jessica tied her hair up in a high ponytail for the first time she could remember. It was nice to feel the weight of her hair off her neck, but the second she stepped out of her dormitory, she was followed by whispers wherever she went as people noticed the scar on her neck. These thankfully began to die down by the end of the week, but it had given Colin Creevy a new bburst of energy to see it, and when he wasn't talking or taking pictures, his eyes were fixed on it. It seemed that he had Jessica and Harry's timetables memorised, because he would appear at odd times to say hello, and nothing gave him a bigger thrill than to hear, "Hullo, Colin," back, no matter how exasperated they would sound.

The weekend could not come sooner; Harry, Ron, Hermione and Jessica were planning to visit Hagrid on Saturday morning. Jessica however was shaken awake several hours earlier by Katie Bell.

"What's going on?" she mumbled groggily.

"Wood's organised a bloody Quidditch practice!"

"What, he couldn't have waited till the sun was up?"

"Nope, now get up or you'll be late. Meet you at the Quidditch pitch in ten."

Jessica reluctantly rolled out of bed and pulled on her scarlet Quidditch robes. She grabbed her Cleansweep Seven and made her way down to the Quidditch pitch.

When Jessica arrived, she was almost the last one there. When she met the rest of the team, only Harry was missing.

"Jessica," said Wood as she entered the room, "just who I was looking for. Where's your brother? Never mind, I need to talk to you about your positions. As you know, there can only be one Seeker per Quidditch team and as last year you were first years, we let you share the role. This year, however, only one of you can be the Seeker."

Jessica looked to him in shock. One of them wasn't staying on the Quidditch team.

"I'll tell you more when Harry gets here, but I thought you'd like to know.

At that moment, Harry stumbled through the door, looking as tired as the rest of the team.

"There you are, Harry, what kept you?" said Wood briskly. He turned back to the team. "Now, I wanted a quick talk with all of you before we actually get onto the pitch, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make the difference..."

Wood held up a large diagram of a Quidditch pitch, on which were drawn many lines, arrows and crosses in different colours. He took out his wand, tapped the board and the lines began to move over the diagram like little snakes. As he launched into a long speech about the new tactics, Jessica, along with the rest of the team, began to drift back towards sleep. Fred Weasley's head drooped onto Katie Bell's shoulder, Jessica was pretty sure George was asleep as he leant against the wall, and Angelina Johnson was yawning in the corner. It was at this moment that Jessica realised that there were only seven people in the room. Alicia Spinnet, a fourth year chaser, was missing from the group.

It took Wood twenty minutes to explain the board, and there were two more after that. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question, Oliver," said George, who had woken with a start. "Why couldn't you tell us this yesterday when we were awake?"

Wood wasn't pleased.

"Listen here, you lot," he said, glowering at them all, "we should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately, due to circumstances beyond our control..."

Jessica looked to the ground guiltily.

"So this year, we train harder than ever before... Okay, let's go put our new theories into practice!" Wood said, seizing his broomstick.

"Wait a minute," said Jessica, "where's Alicia? You know, our third chaser?"

Wood sighed.

"As I said at the start, Alicia's parents were disappointed with her school results for last year, so she has not been allowed to play Quidditch this year. That means we have an empty spot on the team. I have a suspicion that the flying skills you and Harry have as Seekers could be translated to Chasers. So we'll see which of you would be best for which position."

At this Wood exited the changing room onto the pitch, followed by the rest of the team. Jessica lingered on Wood's words for a few minutes. A Chaser? She knew that Harry was the better Seeker between them, but would she be a good Chaser? It seemed to Jessica that her chances of staying on the Quidditch team relied on her being able to throw a Quaffle through a hoop.

When the team finally set foot on the Quidditch pitch, the sun had fully risen. Only a few wisps of mist remained, hanging above the grass of the stadium. Ron and Hermione had even come from breakfast, no doubt, and were sitting in the stands, waiting for Harry and Jessica.

The team got onto their broomsticks and kicked off the ground. Wood started the Potter twins off chasing the Golden Snitch. Jessica had managed to catch the first, but Harry beat her to the Snitch the next four times. Wood called them back in.

"I'm really sorry, Jessica," he said, "but even if we were to continue this for another hour, I think we'd get the same result. Harry, you will remain Gryffindor Seeker, Jessica, the only way you can stay on the team is if you try out for Chaser,"

Jessica sighed. She had expected this, but was really nervous. She'd never thrown a Quaffle before, and she seriously doubted she'd be good enough to be on the team.

"So I'll take you over to Katie and Angelina," continued Wood, "They can show you the basics before you try getting some goals past me."

Jessica liked passing the Quaffle with the girls. After she got the hang of balancing on her broom as she caught and threw the Quaffle, they began to move and use the tactics they'd use in a real game. They happily tossed the Quaffle between them, diving, weaving and dodging the Bludgers Fred and George would send their way when they least expected it.

"What's going on down there?" said Katie as they regrouped.

She was pointing at the ground, where the rest of the Quidditch team had landed. They were talking to another Quidditch team dressed in emerald green.

"What are the Slytherins doing here?" said Jessica, "Wood booked the pitch for us."

"Let's go find out."

"But I booked the pitch!" said Wood as the girls landed beside the rest of the Gryffindor team. "I booked it!"

Ah," said the Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, "But I've got a signed note from Professor Snape. _I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practise today on the Quidditch pitch owing to the need to train their new Seeker."_

"You've got a new Seeker?" said Wood, distracted. "Where"

From behind the six large figures before them came a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his thin, pointed face. It was Draco Malfoy.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" said Fred with dislike.

"Funny you mention Draco's father," said Flint. "Let me show you the generous donation he's made to the Slytherin team."

All seven of them held out their broomsticks. Seven brand new, polished broomsticks with the same golden lettering on the handle: Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"Very latest model. Only came out last month," said Flint carelessly, flicking a speck of dust from his own. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps," he smiled nastily at Fred and George clutching their Cleansweep Fives before looking coldly to Jessica and her Cleansweep Seven, "sweeps the board with them."

None of the Gryffindors knew what to say. Malfoy was smirking so broadly, his eyes were reduces to slits.

"Oh look," said Flint. "A pitch invasion."

Ron and Hermione were racing across the grass to see what was happening.

"What's going on?" said Ron. "Why aren't you playing? And what's _he _doing here?"

He was looking at Malfoy in his Slytherin Quidditch robes sourly.

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," said Malfoy smugly . "Everyone' been admiring the new brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron gaped at the seven superb brooms in front of him.

"Good, aren't they?" said Malfoy smoothly. "But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms too. You could rattle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would have to pay for them. But I doubt that would help, this being the team who needed two Seekers and _still _lost by miles."

"I'll have you know," said Wood, his chest puffed up, "that those particular circumstances were out of our control, and after what I've seen today, we have one Seeker and a new Chaser that could fly circles around the entire Slytherin team any day."

"_And,_" Hermione sharply, "no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They got in on pure talent."

The smug look on Malfoy's face flickered.

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood," he spat.

The effect of this sentence was instantaneous. Flint had to dive in front of Malfoy to stop Fred and George jumping on him, Jessica, Katie and Angelina yelled, "_How dare you!" _ and, _"Take that back!" _and Ron plunged his hand into his robes, pulled out his wand and shouted, "You'll pay for that one, Malfoy!" and pointed it under Flint's arm at Malfoy's face.

A loud bang echoed around the pitch and a jet of green light shot out the wrong end of Ron's wand, hitting him in the stomach an sending him reeling backwards onto the grass.

"Ron! Ron! Are you alright?" squealed Hermione.

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but it wasn't words that came out. He gave an almighty belch and several long, slimy slugs dribbled out into his lap.

The Slytherin team was paralysed with laughter. Flint was doubled up, hanging onto his new broomstick for support. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. The Gryffindors were crowded around Ron, who kept belching glistening slugs. Nobody wanted to touch him.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's closest," said Harry to Hermione and Jessica. They nodded and helped him stand up.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" Colin had run down from his seat in the stands and was now hopping around them as they left the pitch. Ron gave a huge heave and more slugs dribbled down his front.

"Oooh," said Colin, fascinated and raising his camera. "Could you hold him still for me?"

"Get out of the way, Colin!" said Harry angrily. He, Hermione and Jessica supported Ron out of the stadium and across the grounds towards the edge of the forest.

"Nearly there, Ron," said Hermione as Hagrid's cabin came into view. "You'll be alright in a minute... almost there..."

They were within twenty feet of the cabin when the door opened, but it wasn't Hagrid who emerged. Gilderoy Lockhart, wearing robes of pale mauve today, came striding out.

"Quick, behind here," Harry hissed, dragging Ron behind a nearby bush. Hermione and Jessica reluctantly followed.

"It's a simple matter if you know what you're doing!" Lockhart was saying loudly to Hagrid. "If you need help, you know where to find me! I'll let you have a copy of my book – I'm surprised you haven't already got one. I'll sign one tonight and send it over. Well, goodbye!" And strode away towards the castle.

Once Lockhart had disappeared, they got Ron to Hagrid's door and knocked urgently.

Hagrid appeared at once, looking very grumpy, but his expression softened when he saw who it was.

"Bin wonderin' when you'd come ter see me – come in, come in – thought you mighta bin Professor Lockhart back again."

Harry, Hermione and Jessica supported Ron over the threshold into the one roomed cabin, which had an enormous bed in one corner, a fire merrily crackling in the other. Hagrid didn't seem perturbed by Ron's slug problem, which Harry explained as Ron was lowered into a chair.

"Better out than in," Hagrid said cheerfully, plonking a large copper basin in front of him. "Get 'em all up, Ron."

"I don't think there's anything to do but wait for it to stop," said Hermione nervously, watching Ron bend over the basin. "That's a difficult curse to work at the best of times, but with a broken wand..."

Hagrid was bustling around making them tea. His boarhound, Fang was slobbering all over Harry.

"What did Lockhart want with you, Hagrid?"

"Givin' me advice on gettin' kelpies out of a well," growled Hagrid, moving a half-plucked rooster off his scrubbed table and setting down the teapot. "Like I don' know. An' bangin' on about some Banshee he banished. If one word of it was true, I'll eat my kettle."

It was most unlike Hagrid to criticise a Hogwarts teacher and Jessica looked at him in surprise. Hermione, however, said in a voice slightly higher than usual, "I think you're being a bit unfair. Professor Dumbledore obviously thought he was the best man for the job –"

"He was the _on'y _man for the job," said Hagrid, offering them a plate of treacle fudge, while Ron coughed more slugs into his basin. "An' I mean _on'y _one. Gettin' very difficult to find anyone fer the Dark Arts job. People aren't too keen ter take it on, see. They're startin' ter think it's jinxed. No one's lasted long fer a while now. So tell me," said Hagrid, jerking his head towards Ron, "who was he tryin' ter curse?"

"Malfoy called Hermione something. It must've been really bad, because everyone went mad."

"That's because it _was _bad," said Jessica. "It was completely uncalled for. He called her "Mudblood", Hagrid –"

Hagrid looked outraged.

"He didn'!" he growled at Hermione.

"He did," she said. "But I don't know what it means. I could tell it was really rude, of course..."

"It's about the most insulting thing he could think of," said Ron hoarsely, emerging from under the table looking pale. "Mudblood's a really foul name for someone who';s muggle-born – you know, non-magical parents. There are some wizards – like Malfoy's family – who think they're better than everyone else because they're what people call pure-blood." He gave a small burp and a single slug fell into his outstretched hand.

"But everyone else knows it makes no difference at all," said Jessica. "Look at Crabbe and Goyle, they're "pure-bloods" but they're some of the thickest people I've seen."

"An' they haven't invented a spell our Hermione can't do," said Hagrid proudly, making Hermione turn a brilliant shade of magenta.

"It's a disgusting thing to call someone," said Ron, wiping his brow with a shaking hand. "Dirty blood, see. Common blood. It's mad. Most wizards these days are half-blood anyway. If we hadn't married Muggles we'd have died out by now."

He retched and ducked out of sight again.

"Well, I don' blame yeh fer tryin' ter curse him, Ron," said Hagrid loudly over the thuds of more slugs hitting the basin. "Bu' maybe it was a good thing yer wand backfired. 'Spect Lucius Malfoy would've come marchin' up ter the school if yeh'd cursed his son. Least yer not in trouble."

Jessica was going to say that having slugs spilling out of your mouth was trouble, but Hagrid's treacle toffee had cemented her teeth together.

"Harry," said Hagrid suddenly, as though struck by a sudden thought, "gotta bone to pick with yeh. I've heard yeh've bin givin' out signed photos. How come I haven't got one?"

"I have _not _been giving out signed photos," Harry said hotly. "If Lockhart's still been putting that about –"

Hagrid was laughing.

"I'm on'y jokin'," he said, patting Harry on the back, sending him face first into the table. "I knew yeh hadn't really. I told Lockhart yeh didn't need teh. Yer more famous than him without tryin'."

"Bte he didn't like that," said Harry, sitting up and rubbing his chin.

"Don' think he did," said Hagrid, his eyes twinkling. "An' then I told him I'd never read one o' his books an' he left. Treacle toffee, Ron?" he added, as Ron re-appeared.

"No thanks," said Ron weakly."Better not risk it."

"Come an' see what I've bin growin'," as Harry, Jessica and Hermione finished their tea.

In the small vegetable patch behind Hagrid's hut were a dozen of the largest pumpkins Jessica had ever seen. Each was about the size of a boulder.

"Gettin' on well, aren't they?" said Hagrid happily. "Fer the Halloween feast. Should be big enough by then."

"What have you been feeding them?" asked Harry.

Hagrid looked over his shoulder to check they were alone.

"Well, I've bin givin' them – y'know – a bit o' help."

Hagrid wasn't supposed to use magic after being expelled from Hogwarts in his second year. He would never say why, and had selective hearing in the matter. Harry had told Jessica that the remains of Hagrid's wand were hidden within his pink umbrella, and that was how he still managed to do it.

"An Engorgement Charm, I suppose?" said Hermione, halfway between disapproval and amusement. "Well, you've done a good job on them."

"That's what yer little sister said," said Hagrid, nodding towards Ron. "Met her yesterday. " Hagrid was looking sideways at Harry, his beard twitching. "She said she was jus' looking round the grounds, but I reckon she was hopin' fer someone else to be at my house." He winked at Harry. "If yeh ask me, I bet she wouldn' say on ter a signed –"

"Oh shut up," said Harry. Ron snorted with laughter and ground was sprayed with slugs.

"Watch it!" shouted Hagrid, pulling Ron away from his precious pumpkins.

It was nearly lunchtime, and as Harry and Jessica were starving , they were keen to get back to the school to eat. They said goodbye to Hagrid and walked back up to the castle, Ron hiccoughing occasionally, but only bringing up two small slugs.

They had barely set foot in the Entrance Hall when a voice rang out. "There you are, Potter, Potter, Weasley." Professor McGonagall was walking towards them, looking stern. "You three will serve your detentions this evening."

"What are we doing, Professor?" said Ron, nervously suppressing a burp.

"_You_ will be polishing the silver in the trophy room with Mr Filch." Said Professor McGonagall. "And no magic, Weasley – elbow grease. And you, Potter," she said, turning to Harry, "will be helping Professor Lockhart answer his fan mail."

"Oh no, can't I go do the trophy room too?" said Harry desperately.

"Absolutely not," said Professor McGonagall, raising her eyebrows. "Professor Lockhart requested you specifically." Finally, she turned to Jessica. "As for you, Miss Potter, you will be with Professor Snape, cleaning and organising the Potion stores. Eight o' clock sharp. All three of you."

Harry and Ron had lost their appetite by the time they sat down in the Great Hall, they both thought they had the worst deal.

"Filch'll have me there all night," said Ron heavily. "No magic! There must be over a hundred cups in that room. I'm no good at Muggle cleaning."

"I'd swap any day," said Harry hopelessly. "I've had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart's fan mail ... he'll be a nightmare."

"You just have to suck it up," said Jessica, swallowing a big bite of shepherd's pie. "We broke the rules. Besides, sounds like I've got the best one; I actually like Potions so tonight might be really interesting."

Saturday afternoon seemed to melt away, and before she knew it, Jessica was sitting in the cold dungeons re-naming faded jars, cleaning shelves, arranging ingredients alphabetically and taking note of those low in stock. Professor Snape kept an eye on her from the corner where he sat grading papers. It was light work, and after a few hours, Jessica was finished. After giving Snape the list of ingredients to order, and allowing him a final check-up (he didn't say anything, but Jessica swore she saw a faint smile begin to form on his lips), he nodded and she could leave. She made her way quickly to the common room where Hermione was waiting. Together they waited another hour, but when the boys didn't return, they called it a night.

Jessica finally climbed into bed after a long day, and fell almost instantly into a deep sleep. She barely registered the strange hissing she heard from somewhere in the castle, let alone make out the words it was saying.


End file.
